Out in the Cold
by CTI-Jenn
Summary: A routine hot call goes bad and two members of Team One are put in jeopardy. Will the rest of the team be able to rescue them before it's too late? **Takes place Season 4 directly after "A Day in the Life." (Don't let the character pairing in the tags fool you; there is JAM.)
1. Chapter 1

Author's Notes: The idea for this story came from a dream I had the other night that wouldn't leave me alone. I'm putting it in the M section because of scenes that I think could skirt the line. I'd rather be safe than sorry. Hope you enjoy it. A great big thank you to Tirsh who always does a phenomenal job checking things over for mistakes or just things I get wrong about Canada. She's the best!

Time Line: This story takes place in Season 4, the day after "A Day in the Life."

Disclaimer: The show Flashpoint and its characters were created by Mark Ellis and Stephanie Morgenstern and belong to them and its respective networks. I am making no money off this story and it is for entertainment purposes only. However, this particular story is my creation and should not be used without my express written permission.

Out in the Cold

Two large panel vans pulled past the barricade of SUVs with their blue lights flashing. As the first one passed, Sam Braddock could see the tell-tale image of the SRU uniform visible in the front passenger seat. His eyes narrowed and his breath caught in his throat though when the second van passed and he saw the even more familiar woman's uniform in the same position. His finger twitched on the trigger wanting to disable the vehicle carrying the woman he loved away from him. The only thing that stopped him from pulling the trigger was fear that doing so would ensure the deaths of two people he cared about. So, he held his position lying on top of the SUV, the best vantage point he'd been able to get when things in the house had gone sour, and watched as the vans passed unimpeded. One van turned in one direction at the end of the driveway and the other turned the opposite way. Sam lowered his Remington and scrambled off the SUV to join the remaining members of the team.

"Which one do we follow?"

"Neither," Sgt. Greg Parker informed him, his own emotions at the situation clear in his voice. "You heard the leader, Sam. If we attempt to follow, they'll kill our people. We can't take that chance."

Raf shook his head. "What's to guarantee they won't kill them anyway as soon as they think they are safe? I'm with Sam; we have to follow them. I managed to get a tracking device imbedded into each vehicle as it passed by. We can track them from a distance."

"There are heat signatures still in the house. We've got to get in there before we can go after our people." Ed announced as he used the thermal imager to scan the interior of the house. "Be careful, we don't know how they managed to get the drop on Jules and Spike. There could be traps."

They all moved quietly toward the house, each remembering their shock upon learning their teammates had been taken so quietly. Before they entered the house, Sam took one more glance down the road where the van which had carried away the woman he loved in secret had disappeared. He couldn't shake the image of her being held by the leader they'd come to arrest, a thin smear of blood on her chin from a busted lip and a line of blood trickling from a gash on her temple.

_I will get you back. Just hang on, Sweetheart._

- FP - FP - FP -

Four hours earlier

Jules stepped out of the bathroom wearing nothing more than one of Sam's t-shirts that ended about mid-thigh for her. Sam was still sleeping in her bed, looking peaceful and boyish. She grinned, remembering there was nothing boyish in his actions the night before when they'd arrived home from spending Valentine's night listening to their newest team member play in a band at a local club. Their clothes strewn around the room where they'd been abandoned the night before in their desperate attempts to get each other undressed before tumbling into bed together.

She glanced at the alarm clock on the night stand. She'd woken up thirty minutes before it was set to go off and she wasn't interested in going back to sleep. Crossing to the bed, she lifted the t-shirt over her head before slipping back under the covers. Immediately Sam's arms locked around her body and pulled her close. A second later, he twisted on the bed pinning her beneath him as he kissed her.

His kisses were intoxicating and her hands came around his back so that her short fingernails were practically digging indentations into his skin. As his mouth left hers to blaze a trail down her cheek to her neck and then to the juncture where her neck and shoulder met, Jules could feel her own breathing quicken in anticipation of what else he might do. "I thought you were asleep. Not complaining, mind you; just saying."

Sam didn't break off his kisses as his hands skimmed up and down her bare body. His words as he answered her were punctuated with kisses. "I was until you slipped out and left me in this big cold bed all alone. I was afraid if you thought I was awake too, you'd insist we get up and do something boring and practical like get ready for work early."

His hands moved inward to cup her breasts and gently tease her nipples. Her breathing became small pants of pleasure at his ministrations. He grinned as he continued to alternate his explanation with kisses. "Figured if you thought I was still asleep you might be tempted to crawl back in bed with me until it was time to get up. Looks like I was right. Not that I'm complaining either mind you."

Jules wrapped her legs around him pulling him closer. There were a lot of things she had missed about Sam when they weren't together but the way he could make her feel when they made love was definitely high on the list. "We can't be late for work; it would look too suspicious."

"Copy that," Sam agreed as he teased a nipple with his teeth. "We'll save time by showering together when we actually decide to get dressed."

"I like that plan." Jules breathed out as her body arched upward closer to him. After that, their bodies took over doing the talking.

In the end, they didn't have time to even shower together. Instead they were throwing on clothes at the last minute with quick double checks to make sure that nothing was inside out or backward. Showers would have to wait until after the team workout, not that either of them really needed another workout.

Sneaking around and dating behind the team's back wasn't ideal and they both knew it. However, the alternatives to hiding their renewed attraction and commitment to each other didn't work either. Neither really wanted to trade teams or get Sarge in trouble by admitting to the relationship but they both knew they couldn't return to the days when they tried to deny the feelings they shared for each other. So for now, they would make the best of the situation.

During their first attempt at dating, they hadn't been completely successful at keeping their relationship a secret. At the very least Sarge had known they were a couple long before she'd been shot. This time around though, there was a lot more at stake both for them and for the rest of the team, therefore they had worked hard at making sure no one had any reason to think they'd renewed their interest in each other. They had perfected getting to and from work separately without drawing attention to themselves. At work, they were completely professional, teammates and nothing more. They gave no one any reason to question them about their feelings. Once they left work, however and were on their own time and away from everyone, there was no mistaking the feelings they shared for one another. Despite the time they'd spent apart or maybe because of it, their emotions this time around seemed much deeper and much more real.

Jules arrived at work before Sam and went straight to the gym. Raf was the only other person there, already bench pressing what looked to her like a fair amount of weight. The sheen of sweat glistening on his skin suggested he'd been hard at it for awhile. She grinned, remembering the hard time they'd given him the day before. "Making up for missing workout yesterday?"

He placed the bar back in its rack and sat up, wiping his face with a hand towel. "Something like that. I always crash hard right after a gig like last night but then wake up extra early. Figured I'd come on in and get a head start on the day."

Jules nodded as she started up the treadmill and started to jog lightly. She could remember being the same way during her teenaged days in a band. "You're really good, by the way. If you ever decide to give up your day job, you could have a future."

"Good morning, Team One." Spike announced loudly as he joined them in the gym. Jules watched him in amusement as he made his way over to the exercise bike and started it going. He was normally an easy going affable guy but today he seemed almost giddy. She raised an eyebrow.

"So Spike, you have a good time last night?" She'd been the first to leave the club the night before, separately from Sam so as not to raise any suspicions but knowing he'd follow soon after. It hadn't escaped her notice though that her co-worker had seemed quite taken with Sam's younger sister who had joined them.

"As a matter of fact, I did." That seemed to be all he planned to say as he started to whistle.

Jules glanced over at Raf who shrugged. Then she turned her attention back to Spike. She knew she was the last person who should pry into anyone's love life given the secretssShe and Sam were keeping. However, Spike was like a brother to her and it had been too long since she'd seen him looking that happy. It was nice to see, or maybe it was just that she was so happy in love herself that she wanted everyone else to be happy as well. "Did Nat have just as good a time?"

Spike's grin just broadened but he didn't answer. Raf moved from the bench press over to the punching bag. As he strapped on the gloves, he shook his head. "I can tell you the two of them left together about closing time and they looked pretty cozy if you ask me."

"Really? Nice, Spike." Jules grinned. She'd spent enough time around Natalie to know that, despite Sam's insistence that she was a bit of a wild child, Nat really was a sweet, good natured person. With everything Spike had been through lately, Jules thought Nat's fresh and carefree view of life and the world around her could be just what he needed. She trusted that Nat understood the importance of not saying anything about the fact that she and Sam were seeing each other enough to not let anything slip to Spike.

Spike shook his head. "Nah, it's nothing like that. We went and grabbed a coffee when we left the club. Then I took her home." He glanced over to where Sam was just coming in. "See, you can ask Sam; Nat got home at a respectable time, right?"

"Yeah, sure." Sam was quick to answer; not sure what the conversation had been about but not about to admit for anything that he hadn't been home to know anything about his sister's comings and goings. But then he felt the need to elaborate just in case he'd missed something. "Of course for Nat, any time before dawn is a respectable time."

Spike was opening his mouth to protest even more and Jules felt like it was time to step in and put a stop to the conversation before it went places neither she nor Sam needed it to go. "So where are Ed and the Boss? I know I saw their vehicles when I got here."

Raf shook his head. "I saw them when I got here; they were talking to some detective in a suit."

The three more veteran members of Team One exchanged looks. If they were talking to a plain clothes detective, the meant there would probably be a task ahead for Team One. Sure enough, a few minutes later, Ed poked his head into the room. "Guys, suit up and meet us in the briefing room in ten."

Once they had all gathered around the table, Greg introduced them to the "detective in a suit" as Raf had called him. "Team, this is Detective Harris with Guns and Gangs. He's asked for our help on a warrant today."

He turned the floor over to the man. The detective clicked a button so that a picture showed on the screen. "This is Thomas Dublin. We've been watching him for a couple of years now. He's an odd duck, running something that's a cross between a cult and a gang. Not the usual person our division worries with but Dublin's different."

"How so?" Jules asked, the pen in her hand poised over her note pad.

"His members normally keep their noses clean; they aren't out ripping off liquor stores or participating in drive-bys or drug deals but we don't think all of his people are there of their own free will. Plus, besides acquiring new members by any means possible, we also believe he's been amassing enough fire power to arm a third world nation. There's been nothing we can prove so we haven't been able to act on anything."

Sam frowned. "I'm sensing a but coming."

Detective Harris nodded. "You all know Judge Ambrose right?" They all nodded. "His daughter disappeared a month ago. She called him two nights ago and admitted she was with Dublin. Claims she's being held against her will and that she's been raped repeatedly by Dublin and his men."

He clicked another button and the picture on the screen changed to a candid photograph of a beautiful blonde teenager. Jules sucked in a breath; she recognized the look on the girl's face, a defeated defiance that only comes from feeling like the world has turned against you and life will never get better. How many pictures did her dad have stuffed in a box somewhere of her from after her mom died where she had that same exact same expression? Fortunately, she'd managed to get through that time of feeling like it was her against the world and everybody in it without disastrous consequences.

Spike shook his head. "Her admission to her father should be enough to obtain a warrant."

Detective Harris nodded. "Obviously Judge Ambrose can't issue it because that would be a conflict of interest, but, yes, Judge Thompkins issued a pretty broad warrant for the arrests of Dublin and his associates as well as one to search the premises. It's a no knock warrant and Ashley could be in danger if we don't handle this right. That's why I'm asking that your team handles things. You are her best chance of getting out safely."

He stepped back and Ed stood, ready to handle the tactical part of the plan. He switched the screen from the picture of Ashley Ambrose to large run down farmhouse. "This is where intel says Dublin and his people have their base. As you can see the long open drive will make a stealth entry almost impossible. They'll know we're coming no matter what direction we come from."

Sam studied the layout of the farmhouse, looking for any weakness. He couldn't see any. "So what's the plan?"

Ed nodded. "Sam, you and I will take a high perch, probably will have to be on top of the SUVs since there's no other tactical advantage. We'll provide cover and support. Raf and the Boss are going to handle negotiations, try to talk Dublin and his men into letting Ashley out and turning themselves in."

Jules shook her head. "He doesn't strike me as the type who'll give up without a fight. If we try to negotiate him, he could hurt Ashley worse."

"That's why the negotiation is more of a distraction than anything else. While Sarge and Raf are talking, you and Spike will sneak around to the back of the house and try to gain entry that way. You're to locate Ashley and get her out of the house while Dublin and his men are focused on us in the front of the house."

Sam didn't like the plan. Too many things could go wrong and Jules would be at risk. He didn't say anything, however; Jules wouldn't appreciate the appearance it gave that he didn't think she could do the job and he recognized that if the teenage girl inside had been traumatized, Jules might be the only one she'd trust. "Should we wait to strike once it gets dark? Might give Spike and Jules a little more cover…"

"And give Dublin and his men more time to hurt Ashley." Jules argued.

Sarge nodded. "We considered both of those options. The risk to the victim is greater than the potential danger to Spike and Jules. We can't take the chance. Spike, you'll have the parabolic equipment with you; if you have any indication that Dublin's attention is not on me, the two of you wait. Got it?"

They both agreed. The briefing ended soon after and the team went to gather the equipment they would need. Jules and Sam were both in the gun cage at the same time with no one paying attention to them. Sam glanced down at Jules; he kept his voice low just in case someone walked by. "Jules, this Dublin guy sounds like one sick son of a bitch. I trust you can do your job and that you can take care of yourself, but we both know that sometimes that's not enough. Be careful out there."

Jules nodded. She still had to fight the natural tendency to get irritated when Sam got overprotective. Even with the caveat that he trusted her to do her job, it still had a bit of a sting that maybe he truly didn't think she was capable. She knew Sam's concern stemmed more from the fact that he'd lost too many people he cared about through no fault of their own than any doubt he might actually have about her skills at SRU. "Spike and I will have each other's backs. If worse comes to worst and things go south, you and the rest of the team will back us up. It's what we do."

Sam nodded thoughtfully. "I know. I also know you're the best person to go in to save Ashley. I just can't help but…"

"Worry. I know." Jules finished for him. Ed came around the corner to pick up his kit. She waited until they were alone again before leaning against the counter to look at Sam. "I know you worry about me. Just like I can't help but worry about you sometimes when you get the potentially dangerous assignments. Okay? I don't have a problem with you being concerned about me so long as you don't let it interfere with the job. You let that concern show in the field and everyone's going to know we're together again. You know what that means."

Sam nodded; he didn't need to voice the consequences but he did anyway. "Sarge gets into trouble and one or both of us will find ourselves off the team. I know. I'll keep my cool but I'd much rather that I didn't have to."

Jules grinned. "Copy that. So, let's get out there and keep the peace."

Sam handed her one of the Remys to have an excuse to brush against her hand. "Sounds good. Maybe after shift is over we can pick up some take-out and curl up on your couch to watch the hockey game?" Then with a quick look around to assure him he still had another second or two of privacy, he leaned closer to her. "And then maybe move on to other recreational activities after the game."

Jules slung the weapon strap on her back and gave him a slight wink. "Oh, I'm sure if I play my cards right, I could probably make you even agree to those activities BEFORE the game is over."

Sam watched as she almost sauntered out of the gun cage. He grinned and began to whistle. If anyone could even tempt him to miss out on a hockey game it was Jules. He was looking forward to tonight.

- FP - FP - FP -

"Thomas Dublin, this is Sgt. Gregory Parker with the Police Strategic Response Unit. We need to talk to you about Ashley Ambrose."

A pane was broken out of a downstairs window near the front door. Ten shots were fired in rapid succession causing Greg and Raf to fall back a few steps behind the protective shield. Greg ordered Sam and Ed to hold return fire. They definitely had Dublin's attention which was what they needed to give Jules and Spike time to gain entry at the back of the house.

Jules tapped Spike's shoulder and shrugged her shoulders as he listened through the parabolic equipment, clearly asking him what he was hearing. He pulled the headphones off. "I'm hearing crying from what sounds like the second floor back room." He pointed out a window on the second floor. "There. I think if we hooked the line to the roof just above it we could climb right up there to it."

Jules looked at the roof, judging whether the hook would lodge itself securely there. "Yeah, sounds like our best option. Sarge, we have an entry plan. Making our attempt now."

Spike set aside the parabolic equipment and the two SRU officers unloaded the climbing line from their kits. They both lined up their shots carefully and both hooks caught the edge of the roof on the first attempt. Both Spike and Jules gave the lines quick pulls to check that they were secure and then began to climb. Jules breached the line of the window first and peered inside. She could see the teenaged girl from the photograph sitting on the edge of a bed. She was tied up and blindfolded. Jules frowned as she realized the scraps of material the girl was wearing didn't even begin to adequately cover her bruised and battered body. The room appeared bare with the exception of their victim.

"I've got a visual on Ashley." Jules breathed out into her headset. She glanced down at Spike. "Let's get the window open. Maybe it would be better if I went in alone; she looks pretty freaked out."

Spike nodded, coming up beside her. It would take both of them to open with the window and hold on to their lines at the same time. Once the window was open, Jules climbed inside. Her hand on her gun, she looked around the sparsely furnished room and checked the closet. She even went so far as to check under the bed. Satisfied she was alone in the room with the teenager, she went to Ashley's side and removed the blindfold.

"Ashley, it's okay. My name is Jules and I'm with the Strategic Response Unit. We're here to get you out. I'm going to untie you now and we're going to climb out the window. You are safe now and no one is going to hurt you anymore."

"How….How…did you find me?" The young woman asked brokenly as Jules untied her. The girl's arms were freezing so Jules shrugged out of her own jacket and wrapped it around her thin shoulders. "Thomas will kill me if he finds you here. He said I couldn't ever leave…"

Jules knelt in front of the girl so she could look her in the eyes. "Okay, Ashley, listen to me. It's okay. My team is right outside and we're going to arrest Thomas and his men. No one is going to kill you and they aren't going to hurt you anymore. All we have to do is get you to that window and we'll lower you down. I'll be with you the entire time. Can you do that?"

The young woman nodded and shakily stood to follow. She glanced back at the night stand. "I have to get something first."

Sensing Ashley needed a moment to collect herself and process the idea that she really was safe, Jules nodded. "Okay. I'm going to get a harness ready for you."

Jules made her way to the window and glanced out. Spike raised an eyebrow as he handed her the extra harness. "She okay?"

Jules nodded. "She's been hurt obviously but right now more than anything I think she's just scared. Who can blame her after what she's been through?"

Something touched the base of her neck and before she could turn to look she was struck by the sensation of a thousand needles pricking her skin. It was like she'd hit her funny bone but only a thousand times more intense. Even as her muscles contracted and froze she knew she'd been hit by a stun gun. Every officer had at one time felt the effects of a stun gun in order to know what it was like. Not that it gave you any advantage when it really happened to you. She went to her knees, temporarily dazed enough to not know anything or to even be able to make a sound. Even after the device was removed, she was powerless to respond at all.

Spike on the outside of the window did not see what was happening to his teammate. He leaned back on the line, waiting for Jules and Ashley to be ready to start down the rope. A sound below him caught his attention and he looked down in time to see a man dressed in black step out the back door not three feet from the ropes.

"Jules, we've got company…" Spike looked back in time to see the flash of a knife at the rope holding him up. There was nothing he could do, couldn't even shout out a warning to the rest of the team as the knife cut through the rope sending him plummeting to the ground below.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Notes: Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter posted. Christmas holidays ended and with it so did my extra writing time. I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Disclaimer: The show Flashpoint and its characters were created by Mark Ellis and Stephanie Morgenstern and belong to them and its respective networks. I am making no money off this story and it is for entertainment purposes only. However, this particular story is my creation and should not be used without my express written permission.

Out in the Cold

Chapter 2

A fall from the second story of a building wasn't usually a fatal one but it could cause serious injury. One of the first lessons Spike had been taught when he learned to rappel was how to fall correctly from any height in order to minimize injury. He'd practiced it so much over the years he'd been with SRU that it wasn't something he had to think about anymore, which was a good thing because he didn't have time to think as his rope was cut. Didn't have time to think about relaxing his muscles or positioning his body; didn't have time to think about what had happened to Jules in the bedroom; didn't have time to shout out a warning or call for help into his headset; didn't have time for anything before he landed and rolled on the ground. So it was fortunate that his body reacted instinctively.

He managed to escape serious injury but as pain shot up his right ankle, he knew he hadn't totally gotten off scot-free. Before he could open his mouth to warn the rest of the team that he and Jules had been compromised, the man he'd seen come out the back door bent over him and snatched the headset from his ear. Spike recognized him from the pictures in the briefing as Thomas Dublin. His gun was the next thing the man took. The pain shooting up his leg from his ankle was forgotten as Spike heard his own gun being cocked and held at his head.

"Move or make a sound and I will kill you right here and now. And then my friends in the house will kill your partner upstairs. Understand?" Spike nodded. "Good. Then slowly unfasten that utility belt. Remember you so much as twitch more than I'm comfortable with and you're dead."

Spike wanted to fight back, injured ankle be damned. Wanted to call out and alert his teammates that there was trouble. Wanted to do something other than blindly follow the orders of the man holding the gun on him. Wanted to but didn't. Instead, he did exactly as he was told, not because he was worried about his own safety but because he didn't know what was going on in the house and he couldn't jeopardize the victim or Jules in any way. Protecting the unknown victim was a priority to him as a cop; protecting a teammate and a friend was important to him as a man.

As soon as Spike had unfastened the belt and tossed it to the side, the man holding him captive rolled him over onto his stomach and jerked his hands behind him to fasten Spike's handcuffs tightly around his wrists. Then the man jerked him to his feet. Pain once again shot up Spike's injured ankle and he bit back a scream of pain. He wasn't sure if it was broken or just badly sprained but it hurt like hell. He was ushered into the back of the house and forced to sit in an straight back chair.

A hand grabbed at the short hairs on the back of his head, jerking it backward. Spike hissed in pain and he ground his teeth together to avoid a more audible reaction. The person who had dragged him into the house just chuckled. "I'm sorry, does that hurt? Look Pig, you made a big mistake trying to sneak in here and surprise us. But don't worry, it's not a mistake you're going to live to regret."

- FP - FP - FP

_Shit, I'd forgotten how much getting hit by a stun gun hurts. How the hell did someone get the drop on me? I know I cleared the room. Why is the team not responding to the fact that I'm screaming my head off? Shit that hurts. I think my insides are completely fried. Dammit, Spike, where are you?_

Tumbled, disjointed thoughts were all Jules was capable of in the initial moments after the electricity had arced from the prongs of the stun gun into her skin. She felt like a boneless, quivering mass of excruciating pain. She couldn't see, couldn't move, couldn't hear, and despite the fact that she thought she was shouting at the top of her lungs, couldn't make a sound. All she could do was lay where she'd slumped and hope the pain would soon ease and she'd once more have control over her body.

She knew all about stun guns and TAZERs. She knew the mechanics of how they worked and she knew what they could do to a person. Easy enough for anyone to use and effective on just about any assailant. Just three to five seconds of contact could reduce a large man to helplessness for several minutes. Currently for Jules, time had ceased to matter at the initial contact of electricity but it had to have lasted for longer than five seconds. That and the fact that she wasn't a large man convinced her it would be take longer than a few minutes before she recovered fully. Until then she was helpless, and helpless was the one thing Jules hated feeling more than anything.

Her hearing returned first. The sound of Ashley crying registered first. At least Jules hoped it was Ashley she was hearing and not that she herself had been reduced to such hysterics. A door opened and closed and heavy footsteps crossed the room. A pointed toe boot made contact with her abdomen and flipped her over onto her back. Her head set and utility belt were quickly removed. No matter how much she wanted to protest and fight back, she could do nothing but allow it to happen, all the while listening to the pitiful young woman chanting almost convulsively.

"I'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msooryI'msooryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorry."

"Who are you apologizing to, Bitch? Me for letting this happen in the first place? Her because you stunned the fuck out of her? Maybe yourself since you just sabotaged your best chance to get away?"

Jules wasn't sure if she should be happy or sad that it had been Ashley that had stunned her. She was happy that it meant she hadn't missed someone when she'd cleared the room. At the same time it made her sad to think the abused teen was so traumatized that she couldn't recognize when help had really arrived. The male voice kept his attention on her even after he'd disarmed her.

"Poor little Piggy doesn't look like she's feeling too good. How about it, Piggy? You okay down there?" The booted foot that turned her over once more connected solidly to her abdomen and she would have whimpered in pain if she'd had the ability to make a sound. By now her sight had returned and she recognized that it was Thomas Dublin himself standing over her. "I'm a little offended. The great and mighty Strategic Response Unit comes to call and they send Miss Piggy in to take me down? Makes me wonder, did they underestimate me or overestimate you?"

Jules wanted to respond, wanted to let Dublin know just how wrong he was about her, but her body refused to obey her. She cursed inwardly for letting herself be taken by surprise even if there had been no reason to suspect that Ashley would sabotage her own rescue. How many times had they gone through stun gun training? So much so that she could almost steel herself against the body's natural reaction to the electricity if she knew it was coming. This time she hadn't seen it coming and therefore hadn't been able to prepare herself beforehand.

Jules couldn't suppress the cry of pain that escaped when his boot once more made contact with her ribs. He kicked her with such force that her body was temporarily lifted off the floor. Now not only did her muscles not want to react - not even to curl up in a protective ball - but now she couldn't catch her breath either. The boot that had now kicked her twice came to rest on her chest.

Ashley's chant changed over to a plea. "Thomas, don't hurt her. Please. I won't do anything else to make you mad."

Thomas chuckled mirthlessly. "Just you opening your mouth pisses me off, Bitch. The only thing your open mouth is good for is a good fuck. You want me to leave the Piggy alone? Fine, we'll put that mouth to better use. Consider it a reward for stopping her from taking you or a punishment for starting all this in the first place. I don't give a shit."

He moved away from Jules toward the teenager. The injured officer could only lay there helpless as he pushed Ashley back on the bed and covered her with his body. Realizing he was planning to rape the girl right there in front of her, Jules willed her muscles to obey her brain. She couldn't stand by and let that happen. Hoping her useless muscles would actually find the strength to cooperate with her, she launched herself at Dublin's legs. The attack lacked any of the finesse of her usual combat training, but she still managed to knock him off of Ashley and onto the floor.

He cursed but reacted quickly, pushing her away. Her arms were still clumsy as her muscles recovered from the stun gun attack but she still fought with everything in her. She'd always been a scrappy fighter; growing up with four older brothers had taught her skills that no formal training ever could. Had she'd been at her top form, she would have already subdued him, but even at less than her best, she was giving him reasons to question his earlier comments about overestimating her.

He grabbed hold of the back of her ponytail and shoved her head against the corner of the bed. She was momentarily dazed and felt a trickle of something warm and sticky running down the side of her face. Something jabbed her in the hip below her protective vest and before she could wonder what it was, once more her world exploded into intense pain.

She didn't lose consciousness as once again electricity from the stun gun surged into her but there were a few seconds that she lost all sensation at all. When she was once again aware of anything, she realized her hands were handcuffed behind her back and she was being dragged down the hall toward the stairs.

Jules stumbled as they reached the top of the stairs and her feet had nothing beneath them. If her captor hadn't been holding her tightly, she would have pitched headlong down the stairs. She couldn't help but whimper a little in pain, surprised and glad that her vocal chords were at last responding again. Almost in her ear, Dublin chuckled.

"Not so tough now are you, Miss Piggy? You think you did something up there? All you did was postpone the inevitable. Ash knows her place with me, don't you, Bitch."

"I'm sorry, Thomas. Please don't hurt us." Ashley sobbed behind him. Jules realized the teenager was following them, too traumatized to even think of doing anything but what she was told. She could only imagine what had been going through the teen's mind when Jules had arrived to rescue her. She was just a kid; she didn't deserve any of what was happening to her. Jules silently vowed to do anything to keep the girl safe.

"Jules? Shit, what did he do to you?"

Her heart sank at the sound of Spike's concerned voice. It was bad enough that she'd been taken prisoner but to know her friend was also a captive only made it worse. She was shoved into a chair that had been set up next to him. Her brain and body both still felt too dazed for her to really even check on his condition.

"Spike?" Her voice sounded odd even to her own ears so she wondered what Spike must be thinking. Her head was pounding where it had connected with the corner of the bed and her whole body wanted to do nothing more than just curl up in a ball until it had a chance to sufficiently recover.

"Bastard, what did you do to her?" Spike called out, his voice hard. He knew Jules was more than capable of taking care of herself. She'd proven it too many times in the past for him to doubt it. To see her look battered and dazed shocked him.

A hand closed around his throat squeezing just enough to limit his ability to take in enough air to satisfy his lungs' needs. The face that went with the hand was also the same as the photo of Thomas Dublin but it wasn't the man who had grabbed him outside. He didn't think he was seeing things so one of the two men must be a twin. Would have been nice intel to have had before they came to serve the warrant, Spike thought bitterly. Spike didn't know if the man currently making his lungs burn with the need to breathe was Thomas or the twin, but it was obvious that neither Dublin brother believed in being gentle. The man shook his head. "Nothing she didn't have coming to her, Pig. Now shut the hell up."

Once Dublin had released him to go stand near the window looking out to where the rest of the team was, Spike took a couple of deep breaths and then glanced over at Jules. "Jules?"

She shook her head and instantly regretted it; instead of helping to clear her befuddled thoughts, it only served to worsen her headache and make her dizzy. She was so fuzzy she was pretty sure she was seeing double. Only it wasn't the kind of double she usually associated with a head injury. There were two Dublins in the room but they were in two different places and wearing different clothes. "I'm 'kay. Wrong side of a couple of stun gun blasts."

"Shit." Spike had also gone through the same kind of training on stun guns and TAZER that Jules had been through. The first time he'd gotten hit with a TAZER, he'd been ready to promise anything just to end the torture. He couldn't imagine getting hit twice in such close succession. Made the pain in his constantly throbbing ankle seem like a paper cut in comparison.

"You hurt?" She was trying to push the cobwebs aside to focus on her surroundings and friend.

"I'll live. Didn't get to warn the team we'd been compromised before they took my radio." Spike warned her.

Jules took a couple of deep breaths in through her nose and released them through her mouth which seemed to help clear her head. "Don't worry. Our silence will clue them in faster than anything. They'll have our backs."

The Dublin who had brought Jules downstairs returned from his spot by the window, his expression dark. His hand flashed out as he backhanded her sharply across the face. "I think I told you to shut the fuck up."

This time she could taste the blood in her mouth as his ring split her lip with the slap. She didn't react though, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing anything more than a slight jerk of her head when his hand made contact. Her eyes narrowed, "You think it makes you more of a man that you can beat up on teenagers and injured cops?"

He chuckled. "I don't need anything to make me more of a man than I already am. But when a bitch needs to be slapped someone's got to be willing to get his hands dirty."

Spike was pretty sure that this was the real Thomas Dublin and that the guy who had grabbed him was the twin. He had the air of authority that came with being the leader of the group. Thomas turned back toward one of his men. "I think it's time we let our guests outside know we mean business with our guests inside. Ronnie, you know what to do."

Spike's jaw was rocking in anger as the guy who had cuffed him approached and dragged him to his feet. That confirmed his theory as to which man was which. "Come on Pig, time to talk to your friends outside."

"They're going to love taking care of you." Spike warned, angered both by the treatment he'd just witnessed against Jules and his inability to do anything to prevent it. The fact that the man holding him was wearing his radio head set only added to his anger.

"Use the girl instead. She'll get their attention more." Dublin ordered.

Ronnie shrugged and pushed Spike back into the chair before moving over the chair Jules was sitting in. Spike protested loudly but was ignored. Ronnie grabbed Jules by her vest and hauled her to her feet. He pushed her in front of him toward the door. He leaned in to whisper in her ear. "I hope your friends aren't too trigger happy out there."

- FP - FP - FP -

It was too quiet, Sam thought from his perch on top of the SUV. After the initial gunfire that had sent Sarge and Raf ducking behind shields, there had been no sign of life from inside the house. Sam shifted to get a better look through the scope; he couldn't put his finger on it but he had a bad feeling about everything. The feeling the other shoe - a great big size 15 combat boot- was about to drop was nagging at him. Not taking his eye from the scope or his finger from the trigger, he reached up with his free hand to adjust the head set in his ear. It was also too quiet. The last report he'd heard was that Jules was in the house and had found Ashley, but that seemed too long ago. Shouldn't she have reported in by now? Shouldn't he be seeing her and Spike bringing the victim around under the safety of the shield they'd stashed at the corner of the house in case they were spotted approaching or leaving?

Even after adjusting his head set, it remained silent. He frowned. What was taking so long? He wanted to ask his question out loud but held back, knowing it would draw undue attention to him and his interest in Jules's safety. Knowing Toth was listening to all their transcripts, it was of utmost importance that they didn't say or do anything that the auto-transcriber would pick up on. So he kept silent and trusted that she and Spike were okay.

"Dublin, this is Sgt. Parker again. I'd like to talk to you. Don't make this any worse than it has to be. People could get hurt."

There was another round of gunfire from the house and again Greg and Raf took cover. As the sound of the shots faded, a voice called out from just behind the front door. "Oh people have been hurt and they will continue to suffer as long as you are out there."

Sam frowned as he tracked his scope to the door where the voice was coming from. He was sure Ed was doing the same. Officially Ed was Sierra One and he was Sierra Two but that could change depending on who had the better vantage point when someone finally emerged. Someone was hurt but who? Ashley or someone else. Again he resisted the urge to call Jules for a status report.

Greg's voice was still calm as he continued communication with the faceless voice on the other side of the door. "We can't leave, not as long as you have a helpless victim in there." Then his voice lowered so that Sam only heard it through the radio. "Spike, Jules, status report."

Sam was glad that he'd finally hear for himself that he was worried for nothing. Once he heard for sure everything was going according to plan, he'd be able to relax a little and put his fears to rest. The radio stayed silent though. Greg made a second call which also went unanswered. Sam glanced down to where Sarge was standing and he could see that the boss was becoming just as unsettled.

"Jules, Spike, report."

"Did you just realize you were missing something, Sgt. Pukeface? Did you really think you could send your people in here without us knowing about it? Stupid move really."

Sam's heart hammered in his chest. They had Jules and Spike. They had Jules. As the realization washed over him like a cold wave, the door to the house began to open and two figures started to emerge. Dublin and Jules, the former holding a gun at the latter's head. His heart, beating rapidly, suddenly skipped a beat or two. She was hurt. The best part of his entire world had been injured. There was blood on her temple and her lip had been split open. More than that, she just looked dazed, more so than he'd ever seen her look. The only time he'd ever seen her look worse was after she'd been shot.

"No solution." Ed reported. Sam could see why. From the position Ed had taken from his SUV, Jules was between him and Dublin. Even though she was a full foot shorter than the man holding her captive, Ed couldn't take the shot without risking hitting her. Sam lined up his own shot, trying to put the thought of Jules in danger from his mind. He had to focus because failure was not an option.

"I have the solution." He reported.

"Hold." Greg advised.

Sam acknowledged the order. As much as he wanted to put a bullet between the eyes of the man holding Jules captive, he knew he couldn't give in to that urge unless he had no choice.

Dublin continued to talk into the headset, apparently preferring not to have to raise his voice. "Don't think I don't see Baldie and Blondie hiding behind the big guns out there. I'm sure they think they can take me down with one shot. They probably can, maybe even before I can put a bullet in her head. You should know though that I have guys behind me with big guns as well, guns that make yours look like water pistols. You might kill me but there's no way you can get all of them at the same time. Anything happens to me and they'll kill Miss Piggy here, the other pig we have in the house, and probably even the little bitch you all came to save. Is that what you want?"

Sam cursed inwardly. There was nothing he could do without jeopardizing Jules, Spike, and Ashley. He didn't need to hear Greg once more tell him to hold fire to know that it was his only option.

"You're only making things worse for yourself." Greg warned Dublin. "This can't go well for you my friend, not well at all. Release my teammates and the young woman and we can talk about what will happen next."

"I don't think so. They came onto my turf and into my home and they are getting what they deserve. As far as talking about what will happen next, there's no need. I will tell you what's going to happen next when I'm ready to. When I do, you will have no choice but to do exactly what I say or you will be telling the loved ones of three people just why they had to die horrible deaths. You got that?"

Greg frowned. He knew he'd lost the edge in this negotiation and he had to figure out a way to get it back. "Mr. Dublin, there's no need to threaten violence. I'm sure we…"

"Threaten? Trust me Pukeface, I'm doing more than just threatening. Perhaps you need a demonstration."

His leg swept out, forcing Jules painfully to her knees. Then he put the gun to the back of her head and cocked the trigger, prepared to murder her execution style.

Regardless of the danger that the man had promised to Spike and Ashley, there was no way in hell Sam was going to watch as the woman he loved was murdered. His grip tightened on the trigger of the Remington prepared to neutralize the threat. "Boss, I have the solution."


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Notes: Here's Chapter 3. Hope you enjoy. Thanks for the reviews, I love seeing what you think.

Disclaimer: The show Flashpoint and its characters were created by Mark Ellis and Stephanie Morgenstern and belong to them and its respective networks. I am making no money off this story and it is for entertainment purposes only. However, this particular story is my creation and should not be used without my express written permission.

Out in the Cold

Chapter 3

Sam would take the shot. Jules didn't have any doubts. She was on her knees with what she believed was Spike's Glock pressed against the back of her head and she'd heard the cock as the gun was ready to be fired. She was two seconds away from having her brains splashed against the front stoop of a farmhouse not all that different from the one she'd grown up in but inexplicably she wasn't scared. It wasn't that she was determined to face her death on her own terms with her head held high and with no fear on her face. She just knew with ever fiber in her body that Sam would never let Dublin pull the trigger. And so her eyes swept the area until she found him on top of the SUV and even from the distance her eyes met his in a silent plea.

_Don't do it Sam. Don't take the shot. _As much as she trusted that he would never idly stand - or in this case sniper position sprawl - by and watch as someone killed her or anyone else, she also knew she had to stop him. It was more than just her life on the line; Spike and Ashley were also in danger. _Priority of life, remember Sam? Toth doesn't think we can follow the priority of life if we're together but I know we can. I know you can. Let me try to fix this. _

"If you seriously look like you are going to pull that trigger then you are a dead man, Ronnie. No one in that house will be able to save you." Her voice was low and even. She was glad despite the fact that her head was still pounding out the rhythm to some song she couldn't recognize, her voice didn't betray how she was feeling.

"You'll be dead too." Ronnie warned.

"Maybe or maybe not. Those two guys you insulted - the ones with the guns - are two of the best shots I've ever seen. They don't know how to miss. You might kill me but they will definitely kill you. We don't make that shot unless we have to, so chances are the rest of your buddies will be arrested. Even if you and your buddies kill me, Spike, and Ashley, you might be the only one on your side to die.'

She couldn't see his face but she could almost imagine him smirking. "Three of you versus one of us sounds like a win for us."

"Not much of a win for anyone who has a bullet in the brain. I can't do much about the situation." Jules's voice never quavered ; she could have been debating pizza toppings instead of pleading for her life. "You, on the other hand, can. Pull the gun back and you get to live."

Ronnie shook his head. "Doesn't sound like you believe they care whether you live or die."

"Doesn't sound like Thomas does about you either. He sent you out here for a reason. We didn't know he had a twin so my team thinks you are him. Take down the leader and the rest of the gang scatters. He knows that, so he's more willing to put you at risk than himself. My team will do what they can to protect me but Ashley is their priority. If they think neutralizing Thomas Dublin will save her, they'll do it. Only instead of your brother, it will be you they take down because you are the one he sent out here to be his face."

For several seconds longer nothing changed and Jules wasn't sure her words had made an impact. Therefore, she was relieved when the pressure of the gun muzzle moved away from her head. Once more, her eyes searched out Sam's. She needed the connection, at least for a moment to once more center herself. She wasn't scared; she would refuse to admit she was, even if it was with her dying breath. So while she wouldn't say she was scared, she knew her situation - and Spike's - was precarious.

She was also pretty sure Sam needed the reassurance as much as she did - maybe even more. He was, by his very nature, protective; he wouldn't handle anyone on the team being in danger well. The fact that he was seeing her in danger and bleeding would be even worse. She could only hope she could convey with her eyes what she needed him to know.

_I'm okay even if I don't look like it. I trust you to have my back. I know I'll be okay, that Spike will be okay. We'll take care of each other until you and the rest of the team figure things out._

"She lives for now, Pukeface." Ronnie Dublin reported to Greg. "How long she and the others remain that way is yet to be determined. You make any funny moves or come near the house and I'll take care of her personally."

He grabbed her ponytail and gave it a sharp yank, pulling her back to her feet. Jules growled in pain as having her hair pulled only exacerbated the pounding in her head. She was dragged backward into the house.

Thomas met Ronnie at the door and clapped him on the back. "Good job, Brother. You showed them who was boss. Too bad you didn't cap Miss Piggy while you were out there. It would have made all the pigs squeal."

The grip Ronnie had on Jules's arm tightened. "Except I'm not the boss, am I? That's you. What's up with sending me out there, Thomas? Were you wanting them to kill me or something?"

Thomas frowned. "What's gotten you worked up? They weren't going to kill you. Not with us threatening their friends."

It was clear that Thomas wasn't used to being questioned. There was an edge to his voice that was evident even as he tried to come off nonchalant. Ronnie shook his head. "Why didn't you go out there then? You're the boss; you call the shots. Why is it you send me in your place when things get dicey?"

Thomas grabbed Jules by her protective vest and slung her against the wall. With her arms secured behind her, she couldn't catch herself and she slid to the ground. Spike called out in protest but Jules shook her head. She wasn't hurt and for the moment, Thomas's anger was directed at Ronnie and not her.

"Since when did you start questioning my decisions? I don't have to explain my orders to you or any of the rest of the idiots. I'm the brains of this outfit; I do the thinking. You just do whatever the hell I tell you to do."

"And if I catch a bullet with your name on it, all the better, is that it? You don't worry about people gunning for you because you send me in your place, your own personal fucking stunt double. Why is that? Are you too much of a chicken shit to put yourself in danger?"

Thomas's hand flashed out and Ronnie was on the floor, blood spurting from his nose. "Don't you dare talk to me with such disrespect. Not after all I've done for you."

Then the leader looked to where Jules was still slumped on the floor. His gaze narrowed and his nostrils flared. Looking from her to his brother and back again, it seemed like his anger increased with every passing second. Then he nodded.

"Someone's been planting ideas in your head. Miss Piggy's been yapping in your ear trying to save her bacon, right?" He moved to stand over her. Anticipating the kick just seconds before his leg moved, Jules rolled away from him. The move saved her ribs from extra pain as the kick caught her in the buttocks instead. He grabbed her ponytail, and once more it felt like she was being pulled baldheaded. A knee pressed solidly into her back with bruising force and he twisted her head sharply to the right so that he could see her face. "Listen, Bitch, and listen carefully; nobody tries to come between me and my brother, especially not some high and mighty bitch pig." Almost every other word was punctuated by a sharp stinging slap across her face.

"Stop it! Leave her alone." Spike protested. He started to rise from his seat to go to her aid. Immediately several guns cocked and one muzzle pressed against his temple warning him back into his seat. As much as he wanted to help Jules, he was powerless to do anything.

A ringing cell phone offered the reprieve Spike couldn't give. Thomas released his hold and shoved her toward Spike and the empty chair as if he'd already forgotten her. While Spike was glad Thomas wasn't hurting Jules anymore, he inwardly cursed that he was handcuffed to the chair and not in the command truck so he could monitor the communication. He doubted anyone else on the team would know what to do and would therefore not be privy to any vital information they might get from the call.

Jules's body was aching, especially her head, face and ribs; it would be so tempting to stay on the floor where she was and just rest her pounding head against the seat of the chair. Instead she forced herself to rise and sit in the chair properly. Anything other action seemed tantamount to admitting she was hurt and she would be damned if she gave her captors the satisfaction.

"Jules?" Spike ventured as the other members of the gang temporarily ignored them as they were more interested in the conversation Dublin was now having with the person on the other end of the call.

"The team knows were in trouble. They'll get us out of here. I bet Ed's already got an action plan." _And Sam will move heaven and earth to get us - me - free._ Jules focused on what she knew the team would be doing even though she was pretty sure that wasn't what Spike was about to ask about.

"Jules…" His tone indicated he knew exactly what she was doing.

Jules glanced around, ignoring the shift in his tone. Ashley was no longer in the room with them and that concerned her. Even knowing it was the teenager who had originally stunned her, Jules still felt that she was a victim in all this. "Where's Ashley?"

Spike sighed. "After Thing 2 took you outside, she was sobbing pretty uncontrollably. Apparently she was getting on Thing 1's nerves so he had her removed from the room. It wasn't one of the guys who took her," Spike was quick to add. There was no way he would have risked the girl getting raped again if he could help it. "Thomas Dublin's got a girlfriend apparently. Ashley is with her in another part of the house."

"A girlfriend who apparently doesn't mind if her boyfriend makes a habit of raping young girls. Nice."

"Jules, I need you to promise me something. I get why you tried pitting the brothers against each other. Brilliant move but Dublin's obviously not playing with a full deck. Don't antagonize him anymore. If it has to be done, let me do it."

"I can handle it. Spike; it's not like I can't take a few bruises and such. I'm not some fragile weakling who can't accept the risks of the job." She knew she wasn't being fair; Spike probably more than anyone on the team had always allowed her to carry her own weight without treating her with kid gloves. But it was easier to doubt him than herself.

"Hell, you don't think I know that? He could probably beat the shit out of you and you'd ask him if it was the best he could do, especially if you thought it would throw him off or help protect Ashley. I'm asking for purely selfish reasons."

Jules snorted, "Right, you've developed a pain fetish and want the experience of feeling like a punching bag."

"Yeah, right. I'm the one who can complain about a paper cut like it's a five inch slash. I'd be more than willing to let you take all the shit beating but how's that going to look when we get out of here? You with all the war wounds and me with just a busted ankle from my line getting cut? It'd look like I didn't pull my weight or something. I'd never live it down."

"Right, because we all know what a slouch you are. Fine, if it's possible to let you take the lead and the risk I will, but when it comes down to it, I'll do what I have to do in order to protect Ashley." She didn't add that she wasn't sure Dublin wouldn't continue to take out his aggression on her regardless of what Spike did. She recognized his type, a man who objectified women just because he could.

"You two, shut the fuck up before I gag the two of you." Dublin had finished his phone call. He eyed his two captives with derision, but didn't do anything more than his warning. He looked at his men. "Marty came through for us. He's got a safe house all lined up; we just have to get there. You two start loading up the munitions." Dublin directed two of his men and then raised his voice. "Em, get yer ass in here."

An attractive woman, probably about ten years younger than Jules came into the room. Jules decided this must be the girlfriend Spike had mentioned. The woman put her hands to her hips. "Yeah, Tommy?"

"We aren't going to be able to hold the pigs at bay indefinitely even with the threat to their friends. We got a place but we can't leave anything behind. How long will it take you to dismantle everything and get it loaded?"

"I assume you want the cameras left running 'til the last possible moment." When Dublin nodded, the woman continued. "At least an hour by myself, longer if I have to continue to baby sit the brat."

"We'll bring her back in here. I'll shut her up one way or another. An hour is too long; what if gave you one of the knuckleheads?"

Jules could almost see the brunette's wheels turning. "Depending on which knucklehead, anywhere from forty minutes to two hours."

Thomas looked over at his brother. "Ronnie, you going to accuse me of putting you at risk if I send you to help Emily?"

Ronnie, his nose no longer bleeding, glowered. "I'll help her."

"Okay, we'll be ready to pull out in thirty."

Neither Ronnie nor Emily protested that it was ten minutes less than what Emily promised. Another man went with them and returned a moment later with Ashley. She was no longer crying but as she sank into the cushion, she curled up on herself and refused to look at Spike and Jules. The guy who had escorted her back did however.

"Hey Thomas? What about these two? What will we do with them?"

Dublin smiled. "They'll help us with getting out of here without their friends getting itchy trigger fingers. Once they've outlived their usefulness, we won't need them, anymore; they'll be expendable. At that point, they're dead."

- FP - FP - FP -

"Flash grenades and smoke bombs." Ed offered. Since the radios were compromised, he and Sam had temporarily left their perches on top of the SUVs to discuss a plan of attack. "While they are distracted we can get the drop on them."

Sam frowned. "It's risky. We don't know what condition Spike or the girl is in but we know Jules is hurt. Using the gas is risky."

"Spike and Jules know the risks; they've trained for it even." Ed argued. "Looked like Jules's injuries were mild. Not that anything slows her down."

Sam's jaw rocked. They all had a tendency of getting caught up in the indestructible persona Jules liked to depict at work. He doubted anyone else on the team had an inkling of the number of times she'd downplayed or completely hidden injuries from them. Injuries that he only got to see or be privy to because he shared a bed with her and that was one place nothing could be hidden.

Though he hated to see them, he'd stopped commenting on the minor injuries he'd find after a tough shift as he worshipped her perfect body. For the more serious bruises or pulled muscles, he curtailed his natural instinct to freak out and limited himself to simply insisting on the ice pack or muscle rub he knew she'd never get or ask for herself.

Sometimes it wasn't so much that she hid injuries but that she ignored them to the point even she seemed to forget they were there. Sarge would probably freak out if he knew how many bruised or cracked ribs she'd gotten at work simply because she threw herself wholeheartedly into a task and pushed past limits that would have stopped or at least slowed down the rest of them. Sam knew without a doubt Sarge would skin him and Jules both if he ever found out about the concussion she'd gotten three months ago.

Ed had still been recovering from his gunshot wound and Sam was filling in as temporary team leader. When Grayson with Team 6 had challenged Team 1 to a test of skills, Sam had agreed. It was a good way to cross train with guys who might fill in on occasion for another team. Sam was also confident that his team could defeat Team 6 in any challenge. It was a confidence that wasn't shaken as the day wore on, as Team 1 won challenge after challenge.

The final challenges of the day were the hand to hand combats. Jules had been paired again a large, cocky rookie from the other team who had yet to learn what a formidable opponent she was. She'd already bested him at the obstacle course, rock wall, the gun range, and had already pinned him twice. She was standing to the side waiting for Sam to blow the whistle to resume fighting so she could go for the third and final pin. Smarting over his losses, the rookie had swept his foot out even though time was called and tripped her. It would have been nothing more than a dirty trick but Jules was so close to the edge of the mat that as she fell, her head bounced on the concrete floor. They'd all been horrified and ready to rush to check on her, when she gotten right back up and pinned the guy again.

It had only been that night as they made love- this time at Sam's apartment - that he'd discovered the rather large and tender bump on the back of her head. As he'd further checked her out, he then noticed that her eyes were a little off. When she'd reluctantly admitted to a severe headache, he'd insisted on taking her to the Emergency Room to get it checked out. The doctor had diagnosed a slight concussion and had recommended she take at least a week off from work. But in typical Jules fashion, she'd been right back at work the next shift despite Sam's pleas that she listen to the doctor. She'd refused to listen saying the two days they already had off was ample time.

So now, hearing Ed dismiss her injuries after Sam had seen her _look_ injured was tearing him up. He couldn't say anything, couldn't confess his fears without giving away how he knew it was more. "I still say it's too risky."

"Sam, you're usually the one wanting to make the preemptive strategic move." Ed countered.

Sam knew he was walking a dangerous line. He could almost hear Jules warning him to be careful lest he gave them away. "Yeah, and you're usually the one busting my chops for wanting to make rookie mistakes. I don't like Spike and Jules being in danger any more than you do but we can't go rushing in there and putting all three in maybe even more danger. If this were any other case with no visible immediate threat, we'd hold off on a direct action plan and try to talk the subject down."

"Sam's right." Sarge agreed. "We've got to play this one by the books."

"He was prepared to kill Jules execution style." Ed continued to argue. He'd felt helpless as a leader knowing one of his team was in danger and being unable to do anything. He knew Sam had the shot and trusted that the younger man would have intervened before Dublin could kill Jules but it hadn't erased his feeling of letting her down. After all, it had been his plan to send Jules and Spike into the house in the first place. And now they were in danger.

"But he didn't," Sarge countered.

"Jules talked him down." Sam added. "I don't know what she said to him but I could see her talking to him through the scope." He didn't add that he'd felt like she was talking him down as well. His finger had been itching to pull the trigger and eliminate the risk. It had taken every ounce of control he had and then some to keep from firing.

Sarge nodded and reached for his headset. "I think it's time I tried talking to Dublin again."

- FP - FP - FP -

For the first little bit after Thomas had sent everyone scrambling to pack things up, Spike, Jules and Ashley had been ignored. But then Thomas came to sit down next to Ashley. Though the teenager had cringed away from him, he used his superior strength to draw her closer. His hand roamed beneath the girl's shirt and even traumatized, Ashley tried to squirm free. His eyes were practically twinkling as he watched the two officers.

Spike clenched his jaw, knowing he had to step in and wanting to, not just to keep Jules from doing so but because it made him sick to see the teenager being violated right in front of him. Even though his hands were cuffed behind him and there wasn't much he could really do, he was prepared to try. Spike was pretty sure Dublin was trying to egg on a reaction so he tried to think of a way of distracting him another way. It wasn't that he didn't want to provoke him but that he didn't want to give the man the satisfaction of knowing he'd gotten to him at the expense of Ashley.

"Emily said something about cameras. Is that how you knew we were coming in?"

Thomas smirked. "Yeah, saw the two of you coming around the house and the rest of was easy. Put Ashley here upstairs and warned her I was right outside and would kill her if she tried to escape. Didn't take her long to shock the fuck out of Miss Piggy and then cut your line. I'm almost proud of her."

"_Dublin, we should talk." _Greg's voice sounded almost tinny over the headset. Funny how it sounded different when it wasn't exactly in your ear.

Thomas snorted and turned on the transmit button. "We don't have anything to discuss until I'm ready with my demands. Shouldn't be too much longer. Until then, shut up."

He turned off the head set again. He looked at Spike and Jules. "You two ever get tired of listening to him just yammer on? Ever turn off the headset just to shut him up?"

Ronnie returned. "Em's just about got things loaded. Since you are the brains, you figured out a way to get past the pigs outside?"

Thomas rose from the couch. "That won't be a problem. First things first though."

He moved to stand in front of Jules and pulled her to her feet. Without a word he unfastened the cuffs that bound her hands together. Before she could capitalize on her freedom, he jerked at the Velcro on her Kevlar vest. He tossed it aside.

"Now, strip."


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Notes: Shorter chapter for this one but it was a good spot to end the chapter on. Hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: The show Flashpoint and its characters were created by Mark Ellis and Stephanie Morgenstern and belong to them and its respective networks. I am making no money off this story and it is for entertainment purposes only. However, this particular story is my creation and should not be used without my express written permission.

Out in the Cold

Chapter 4

Jules stared at Dublin, her eyes flashing and her chin jutted out in defiance. A cold chill had run down her spine at his order but no trace of fear showed on her battered face. The emotion wouldn't dare cross her that way. "Go to hell."

"Maybe I will one day but you'll get there first. Now either take the damn uniform off or I'll take it off your fucking body for you."

There was no way Spike could sit idly by as his friend was defiled and humiliated by Thomas in this roomful of men. Nobody seemed to be paying him any attention anyway. Tensing his leg muscles and not caring about his injured ankle, he pushed off from the chair, toppling it to the floor as he did the same to Dublin.

The handgun Dublin had been holding skittered harmlessly a few feet away. Their captor didn't let that stop him. Recovering quickly, he pushed Spike away. Even though the SRU officer was restrained and limited to what he could do, Spike continued to struggle with Dublin. In a fair fight, Spike was more than capable of holding his own against almost anyone. This, however, was hardly a fair fight. Dublin was already getting in some pretty brutal punches in when he picked Spike up and threw him onto the coffee table. The wooden frame splintered and the glass top shattered under the assault. Spike laid there, the wind momentarily knocked out of him.

Jules, her hands free, lunged for the discarded weapon. She scooped it up and pointed it at Thomas just as he was preparing to viciously kick Spike in the head. "Don't even think about it." Jules's tone was no-nonsense. The one that could make a storm seriously consider changing its course solely at a word from her.

"I think it's you who should reconsider." Ronnie's voice in her ear was low and threatening. She felt the two prongs of the stun gun cold against the back of her neck as he pressed it to her skin. Just in case she had her doubts about lowering the gun, he sent a one second pulse through her. It was enough to hurt but not incapacitate. Her grip tightened reflexively on the weapon. Ronnie spoke again. "That was a warning. Drop the gun or I swear I'll hold the button on this thing until either the battery dies or you do. Then I'll do the same to your partner over there."

Slowly and reluctantly, Jules lowered the gun; Ronnie wrenched it from her slender hand. Thomas turned his back on Spike and once more approached Jules. He grinned. Now that we've established my superiority; let's try this again. Take the damn uniform off now."

She started with her shoes, trying to maintain her modesty as long as she could. Standing in her socked feet, she started on the buttons of her shirt. Her hands were shaking but her eyes stayed on Thomas, refusing to let him see her cower. To the casual observer, it wouldn't seem like she was too bothered by the request but it was all a façade. She'd never been too keen on the idea of changing clothes in front of anyone. It was one of the perks she liked about being the only female on Team 1; when Leah was with the team, Jules had to figure out how to get changed without drawing attention to that fact. Even with Sam, whom she loved dearly, undressing in front of him was awkward unless it was when they undressed each other during the passion and preparation of making love.

Shrugging out of the shirt, she was grateful for the t-shirt she wore underneath. Her pants came next, and she flushed as several of the men made appreciative catcalls at the sight of her maroon hipster panties. She was glad she didn't wear more revealing underwear.

"T-shirt too. Hurry it up, Bitch; we've got better things to do then watch you strip."

His bored tone and the whole situation irked her. "Better things like gangbanging people you hold prisoner?" Pure acid poured from Jules's mouth. She'd die fighting before she let him use her that way. "How does your girlfriend feel about that?"

Thomas merely chuckled. "She knows her place; took a while to train her right but she finally learned it well. When I want a serious fuck, she's the one I turn to. Anything else is just business."

Jules was standing there in just her bra and panties, a matching maroon set that while practical was still sexy enough that it never failed to send Sam's Adam's apple - as well as lower parts of his anatomy - jumping in appreciation. Goosebumps covered her arms and legs and she wasn't sure that it was just the cool dampness causing it. _Keep him talking; delay what he has planned._

Before she could put her plan into motion, Thomas scooped up her discarded uniform and tossed the pieces to one of the guys. "Terrance, take it to Em; tell her to get changed. Then come back for yours. Ronnie cuff her back up."

As the twin once more brought her arms behind her, Thomas stepped forward, his fingers playing with the waistband of her hipsters. Spike, from his position on the floor, shouted obscenities at the man who simply ignored him. Thomas grinned down at her. "You thought I had designs on your body, Miss Piggy. Didn't you? Sorry; I like my women a little more filled out than you if I'm going to enjoy fucking a woman. No doubt you'd be more fun to break than most Bitches. I wish I had the time to do it too. I could make you scream in ways you've never thought about screaming."

He stepped even closer; so close that he'd be flush against her if she didn't take a step backward. She wanted to; didn't want him anywhere close to her, but she refused to give him the satisfaction though. The metal of the handcuffs bit into her flesh and Ronnie stepped away. Thomas took another step closer, and this time Jules had no choice but to step back. He kept forcing her backward, step by step, until the back of her legs hit the seat of the chair. She sat down heavily.

He laughed as he turned back toward Spike. Ronnie had helped the injured man to his feet and was about to unlock the handcuffs. Thomas stopped him and told his brother to throw him the stun gun. The leader Dublin pressed the prongs directly over Jules's heart.

"Pig, he's going to unlock those cuffs and you're going to strip down to your skivvies as well. Cause any trouble and I zap her. Take too long and my finger might get so tired that it presses down anyway."

Seeing that he had no choice and certain that it wasn't an idle threat, Spike quickly undressed down to his socks and boxers. He felt exposed and knew it had to be worse for Jules. Once Spike was again handcuffed and in the chair, Thomas lowered the stun gun and pocketed it. Then he gathered Spike's uniform and gave it to Terrance when he came back.

Momentarily satisfied, Thomas then knelt in front of Ashley. "You've made things very difficult for me. It's your fault I'm having to pack up and leave. If they are so desperate for you, I'm going to give you to them."

He turned the head set back to transmit. "I'm ready to tell you how this is going to work."

"_Okay, we can discuss what you want; see what we can make work."_

Thomas snorted. "You didn't listen. There is no discussion. This is the way it will be or you'll have three dead bodies on your hands. In ten minutes two vans are going to pull out of the garage. One of your officers will be in each van; you try anything and we'll kill them and dump their bodies. Once we're gone the house is yours. I'll even leave the girl you came for when we leave."

- FP - FP - FP -

Greg looked from Ed to Sam to Raf and back to Ed again. The only thing good about that plan was the idea of getting Ashley back. "What about my people?"

"_When we're safely away, we'll release them as well. You don't get a bust for your jacket today but you get your people back. Not bad, I'd say."_

Greg frowned. "I don't know that I can agree to that. Let Ashley go now and maybe we can discuss the rest."

All of a sudden they could hear a strangled cry that sound like Spike. It was immediately followed by Jules screaming for someone to stop hurting him. Greg pulled his cap off and ran his hand over his head in dismay.

"_That's the sound of one of yours getting the shit stunned out of him. Doesn't look like he can take much more. Agree fast or we'll give the ladies the next taste."_

"Okay, okay. Stop it. We won't try to stop the vans. Leave Spike alone."

"_Good choice."_

Greg turned off the radio again. Sam's gut was torn in two at the thought of what might be happening inside. He'd been the one to discourage any active plan earlier, and while he knew it was still too risky, the idea of letting them drive away with Jules seemed wrong.

"Sarge, once out of our sight, we can't control what happens."

"Agreed. Raf, grab the targeting rifle and find a position. We'll tag the vehicle with micro-trackers so we can locate them no matter where they go. Sam, Ed, back to your positions. Any false moves, do what you have to do. Not one of us likes this but it's the best we can do. We'll get Ashley to safety and then I promise you, we'll get Spike and Jules back as well. Once we do, we're going to nail Dublin's ass to the ground."

- FP - FP - FP -

Jules was being dragged through the house toward the garage. The grip Thomas had on the back of her neck was tight but she was glad it wasn't by her hair. Her muscles had pretty much recovered from the different stun attacks but her whole body still felt like she'd gone twenty rounds as a punching bag. Since she essentially had, she wasn't surprised.

Just slightly behind her Spike was being similarly dragged along. She could tell his ankle was in bad shape from the way he was stumbling along and from his muttered curses. When they reached the vans, Jules noticed there were four instead of the two Thomas had said they would leave in. Before she could really wonder about the discrepancy, Thomas gave her something worse to focus on. He looked at Ashley walking fearfully beside Ronnie. Thomas's twin simply had his hand on her shoulder, propelling her along.

"I told the pigs outside I was leaving you behind. Too bad, because you had potential until you had to go call Daddy and shoot your mouth off."

The look of relief on the teen's face was immense. Then Thomas looked at Ronnie. "I told them I would leave her behind; I never said she'd be alive when they found her. Take her upstairs and kill her. Do it quickly and quietly but make it painful. I want her to suffer for all of this."

"Damn you, Dublin; she's suffered enough." Spike protested, struggling against the grip holding him. He broke free and lunged toward Ronnie.

Jules began to fight as well. She shoved her shoulder into Thomas's chest and kicked out. Nothing she did seemed to faze him until her knee made solid contact with his groin. With a growl of pain, he grabbed her ponytail and slammed her head into the back door of the van. The blow caught her in exactly the same spot that had collided with the corner of the bed earlier. She saw a bright flash of light and then darkness closed over her.

Thomas released his grasp on her and let her unconscious body crumple to the floor. He pulled out the stun gun and crossed over to where Spike was valiantly trying to come between Ronnie and Ashley. Jamming the prongs against Spike's bare skin at his shoulder blade, he depressed the button until Spike was on his knees and helpless to fight back. Then Thomas removed the stun gun and kicked him the rest of the way over.

"Load these two pigs into the van. Ronnie, take care of the bitch and then drive the van with the equipment to the rendezvous point. The rest of you divide up into the decoy vans. When you are sure it's safe, dump the vans and the uniforms and make your way there as well. Em, once you dump the pig suit, grab a car and wait for my text. I'm going to need you to pick me up."

Emily, dressed in Jules's uniform frowned. "What are you going to be doing?"

He nodded in the direction of Jules and Spike, his expression grim. "I've got to take out the garbage."


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Notes: This chapter starts just like the first chapter now that we've caught up to the beginning. For those of you that have been missing the JAM since Jules and Sam are in different places in the situation, there's something in this chapter just for you. We also get to the reason for the title. I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: The show Flashpoint and its characters were created by Mark Ellis and Stephanie Morgenstern and belong to them and its respective networks. I am making no money off this story and it is for entertainment purposes only. However, this particular story is my creation and should not be used without my express written permission.

Out in the Cold

Chapter 5

Two large panel vans pulled past the barricade of SUVs with their blue lights flashing. As the first one passed, Sam Braddock could see the tell-tale image of the SRU uniform visible in the front passenger seat. His eyes narrowed and his breath caught in his throat though when the second van passed and he saw the even more familiar woman's uniform in the same position. His finger twitched on the trigger wanting to disable the vehicle carrying the woman he loved away from him. The only thing that stopped him from pulling the trigger was fear that doing so would ensure the deaths of two people he cared about. So, he held his position lying on top of the SUV, the best vantage point he'd been able to get when things in the house had gone sour, and watched as the vans passed unimpeded. One van turned in one direction at the end of the driveway and the other turned the opposite way. Sam lowered his Remington and scrambled off the SUV to join the remaining members of the team.

"Which one do we follow?"

"Neither," Sgt. Greg Parker informed him, his own emotions at the situation clear in his voice. "You heard the leader, Sam. If we attempt to follow, they'll kill our people. We can't take that chance."

Raf shook his head. "What's to guarantee they won't kill them anyway as soon as they think they are safe? I'm with Sam; we have to follow them. I managed to get a tracking device imbedded into each vehicle as it passed by. We can track them from a distance."

"There are heat signatures still in the house. We've got to get in there before we can go after our people." Ed announced as he used the thermal imager to scan the interior of the house. "Be careful, we don't know how they managed to get the drop on Jules and Spike. There could be traps."

They all moved quietly toward the house, each remembering their shock upon learning their teammates had been taken so quietly. Before they entered the house, Sam took one more glance down the road where the van which had carried away the woman he loved in secret had disappeared. He couldn't shake the image of her being held by the leader they'd come to arrest, a thin smear of blood on her chin from a busted lip and a line of blood trickling from a gash on her temple.

_I will get you back. Just hang on, Sweetheart._

Their guns were at the ready as they crossed the threshold. The living room was empty as they cleared the entryway. Ed looked at his thermal imager with a frown. "Just lost most of the heat signatures."

A noise out the window drew Raf's attention. He cursed. "We got two more vans pulling away from the house now. They must have waited until we got inside so they could sneak out."

"That explains the sudden drop in heat signatures." Sam commented, trying not to let his concern show. Why the extra vans? Why the delay? Why not let everyone leave at the same time? What game was Dublin playing? _Jules, I know you can take care of yourself but please hang on._

"Still got what looks like one heat signature upstairs. It's not moving." Ed continued, focused on the task at hand so he didn't have to worry about his colleagues in danger. "Maximum caution; we don't know what's going on."

They made their way upstairs, clearing room after room until they reached the one the heat signature seemed to be coming from. First glance showed an empty bedroom but it looked like a struggle had taken place recently. Sam's trained eye caught a smear of blood on the corner of the bed and he thought about the trickle of blood he'd seen on Jules's head. Was this her blood? Was this where she'd been hurt? So help him, if Dublin seriously hurt her, he'd…. He let his thoughts trail off; he had to maintain his professionalism or he risked proving Toth right.

Ed pointed to the closet door, indicating that was where the heat signature was coming from. Greg put his hand to the knob and waited until the other three men had him covered. He held up his hand with the fingers extended and then slowly curled one finger at a time counting down. When he had a fist, he pulled open the door.

Ashley Ambrose's body was sprawled face down on the floor of the closet. She wasn't moving. Greg looked back at the rest of the team. "Dammit."

- FP - FP - FP -

"_Dammit, don't do this." Jules pleaded as her jeep made an ominous clunking sound before sputtering and dying completely. It had been giving her subtle warnings that a break down was imminent but she'd thus far been ignoring it. It wasn't that she didn't care about her vehicle's well-being but work had been hectic lately and she simply hadn't had time to take it to the garage to get it checked. And now here it was an hour before midnight on one of the coldest nights they'd had thus far in November and she was stranded on the side of the road. _

"_Dammit." She repeated. It had been a long shift with several back to back hot calls. The rest of the team had decided to go to the Goose for beers after work but she'd begged off. All she wanted was to go home, shower, change into her comfy sweats, and stretch out on the couch in front of the TV until she fell asleep. _

_She tried once again to restart the stalled vehicle but the engine wouldn't even attempt to turn over. At least she'd been able to coax it safely into a parking lot before it died completely so it would be safe if she wanted to wait until morning to get it towed to the garage. She called for a cab but was told it would be an hour before one could arrive. She politely told them not to bother and ended the call. She knew she could call Sam and he would leave the Goose to come pick her up, but she didn't want to resort to that. Not only was she not the type to call for help like a damsel in distress, but she knew he'd been looking forward to the night out with the guys. _

_No matter how much they enjoyed each other's company, they needed a balance. They worked together and, more nights than not, slept together. On top of everything else, keeping their renewed relationship a secret from the rest of the team, while necessary, was wearing on them both. So she wasn't going to interrupt his night out with the guys to have him come "rescue" her. _

_Besides, it's wasn't even like she needed rescuing; she was only a few miles from home and could easily walk. So what if the temperature had been hovering just below freezing all day and the sky had been threatening to start spitting snowflakes all day? What was a little walk in the cold? Wasn't like she hadn't been out in this weather all day. She made sure her jacket was zipped and removed the ridiculous looking but warm hat from the pocket. She pulled it over her ears and pulled on her gloves. After making sure the jeep was locked she started walking in the direction of her house._

_The temperature had dropped even more than she'd realized and the wind cut through her. She quickened her pace, ready to run the distance if she had to in order to both stay warm and get there quicker. Normally she could run the four mile distance in a few minutes shy of forty minutes but she wasn't really dressed for the run and the weather wasn't ideal for her normal run. Her chest burned with exertion as breathing in the cold was difficult. _

_She could hear a car coming down the street behind her; the first one she'd heard since she'd started home on foot. She hoped the driver could see her even though she wasn't wearing reflective clothing. When she heard the car slowing down she knew he or she had. _

"_Jules, what the hell are you doing?"_

_The car was right alongside her with the passenger window rolled down. She glanced over and saw that it was Sam. Gratefully, she opened the car door and slipped inside the vehicle and simultaneously rolled up the window and turned up the heat. "Jeep broke down."_

"_I saw it in the parking lot when I passed. That doesn't explain why you are walking this late in the dark and cold when you could have called someone." He reached over and touched her cheek, wincing at how cold her skin felt. "Shit, Jules, ice cubes are warmer than you." He turned the vents so that the warm air blew directly on her. "Why didn't you call someone?"_

_Jules shrugged. "It didn't seem like that big a deal. Why aren't you at the Goose with the others?" _

_He flashed her a quick grin as he started to drive again. "I missed you."_

_The sound Jules made could only be described as a snort. When she kept looking at him, he shrugged. "I did miss you but it turned out it was a bust evening. Wordy got a call from Shel that one of the girls was sick so he left to check on her. Then Spike got a call from his girlfriend who apparently made him a better offer so he left as well. So, Sarge and I decided to call it a night as well. I'm glad we did, otherwise you might have turned into a snowman before you reached the house."_

"_I'd argue with you about this but my teeth are chattering so much I'd lose just because of that. I'll make it up to you by letting you warm me up when we get home. How's that sound?"_

_Sam's smile was more of a smirk. "I think I can handle that. Although I should say you're on your own just so you don't try a crazy stunt like this again. You would have been much better off waiting in the jeep until someone could pick you up." He pointed to the car's thermometer in the rearview mirror: -24 degrees. Much colder than she'd realized. "That's not running weather unless you are inside on a treadmill or track."_

_He pulled into her driveway five minutes later. She almost hated to leave the warmth of the car long enough to make it inside the house but she didn't complain. She lightly jumped up and down in place to keep warm as she waited for Sam to unlock the front door. Once inside, he removed his own coat and gloves and then helped her with hers, knowing her fingers were probably so cold they wouldn't work properly._

_He turned her toward the stairs and gave her a little nudge. "Come on, let's get you warmed up."_

_He followed her closely up the stairs into the bedroom. Closing the bedroom door, he then put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. He lifted her sweater over her head and then reached for the snap of her jeans. She ducked her head, not meeting his gaze. There was a blush to her cheeks that didn't have anything to do with the cold and he kissed the top of her head. _

_In every other aspect of her life, Jules Callaghan was self assured and confident of everything she did to the point that people who didn't know her might find it off-putting. She wasn't conceited by any stretch of the imagination. She'd worked hard to get where she was and deserved to be proud of her accomplishments. The confidence, however, didn't extend to her perception of her own body, something she felt she hadn't had any control over. It wasn't that she had a low self esteem when it came to her looks but she was still a little shy about showing her body to others, even to him. There was something fresh, innocent, and even intoxicating about being with a woman who wasn't convinced of her own beauty. As far as Sam was concerned, there wasn't a woman anywhere who could compare to the woman standing in front of him. _

_When she was standing in front of him in just her underwear, she turned away from him to head to the bathroom. He frowned. "Where do you think you're going?"_

_She stopped and glanced back at him, a look of confusion on her face. "I was going to jump in the shower to warm up. You think you could make some hot chocolate? The good stuff with milk not water?"_

_Sam shook his head. "I think you said something in the car about letting me warm you up. I've got something much better than a shower and hot chocolate in mind."_

_He quickly removed his own clothes and then led her to the bed. He kissed her softly. "Shared body heat works much better, or so I've been told."_

_He laid her down on the bed and then covered her first with his own body and then pulled a blanket over them. He kissed her again. "Better?" His voice was husky and a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold ran down her spine. She nodded. _

_Most of his weight rested on her. When they'd first started sleeping together he'd tried to brace himself to keep from crushing her. He'd discovered though that she welcomed having his weight pinning her to the bed and he'd quit worrying about hurting her. He could tell a difference in her breathing when his weight on her got too much and could adjust his position then. Until then, and especially now, he pressed her into the mattress with his body. _

_Her body was cold but not as much as he feared. As she returned his kiss with one of her own, his hands slid beneath her to draw her even closer to him. As he shared his body heat with her, his kisses also worked to build a heat inside her. Soon nothing mattered but getting lost in each other's kisses and embraces. His arousal was getting painful and his eyes met hers, silently asking permission. She bit her lower lip and nodded, wanting him inside her as much as he wanted to be there. He quickly removed her panties, tossing them behind her to where the rest of her clothes had been discarded. As he filled her completely, she moaned in pleasure, a heat building inside her that was more satisfying than any shower could have caused. _

_He took his time, making slow gentle thrusts in and out of her as his mouth made a blazing trail along her jaw line down to her bra covered breasts. He deftly unfastened the clasp and removed the material keeping him from enjoying her breasts. Her pants of pleasure assured him that he was hitting all the right spots for her and he could feel his own release building. She shuddered convulsively beneath him as her orgasm hit and his own followed shortly behind her. _

_As they rode out their respective highs of pleasure, he shifted his weight so it was mostly resting on the bed beside her rather than directly on top of her. He still managed to cover her with his own body as one hand came up so he could run his fingers through her hair. He continued to pepper kisses along her jaw line as she blinked sleepily up at him. He smiled._

"_Warmer?"_

_She smiled languidly up at him. "Scorching. You certainly know how to raise a girl's body temperature, Mr. Braddock."_

"_Only the woman in my arms right now." Sam quickly amended. His fingers that had been playing with her hair came around the back of her head to caress her cheek. "Now if you want to get that shower, I'll run downstairs and make you the good hot chocolate you were asking for."_

_She shook her head, her arms tightening around his body, trapping him to her side. "I think I much prefer the body heat method of getting warm."_

"Jules? Come on Jules, open your eyes."

Her eyelids fluttered but didn't open. Jules felt cold, colder than she had that night in November when her jeep had broken down. She wanted to return to the memory of Sam warming her up so that maybe she'd start to feel warm again. But now that a familiar voice she knew she should recognize but couldn't quite place right away had pulled her from the memory, she couldn't quite return to it. Maybe it was the cold invading her body or her aching body that was preventing her but she had a feeling it had more to do with the intense pounding in her head.

"Jules? Don't do this to me."

Now she recognized Spike's voice. Why he was waking her up, she didn't understand. Why he sounded so panicked, she understood even less. What had happened? Had the team gone out for drinks? She didn't usually drink more than one or two beers when they went out. However there had been a few times when a call had gone especially bad and she wanted to forget that, despite Sarge's assurances that it was okay, she wasn't perfect, that she let herself indulge more than she should. Never in those few times had she drunk to the point that she'd passed out.

With extreme effort she forced first one eye open and then the other. Even though it wasn't bright, the light that greeted her was too much. She shut them both again with a groan. A hangover would explain the headache and sensitivity to light. Why hadn't one of the guys cut her off before she'd gotten so wasted?

"Come on, Jules. That's a girl. Open them again."

Spike sounded too concerned and worried for this to be just a hangover. She groaned again and once more forced her eyes open. The light still hurt but she kept them open this time. Slowly she started to remember. Serving the warrant on Dublin, trying to rescue Ashley, getting stunned, getting the shit beat out of her, having to strip down to her underwear, Dublin ordering Ashley's death, her head smashing into the back of the van. Ashley, Ronnie Dublin was going to kill Ashley.

"Spike? Ashley?" She struggled to sit up, groaning again as a wave of dizziness and nausea assaulting her suddenly. She returned to a prone position.

"Easy, take it easy," Spike warned her. He recognized the look she was giving him and he sighed. "I don't know what happened. After Dublin knocked you out, he zapped me pretty hard with the stun gun. When I recovered enough to know anything at all, we were in the back of the van being driven to who knows where."

She looked around. They were in the back of a large panel van that seemed to be almost completely empty. The metal of the floor was cold against her skin and she glanced down. She was wearing only her underwear, her uniform having been taken from her at the house. No wonder she felt so unbelievably cold. She glanced at Spike, who was also down to just his underwear, shaking in the cold. She sat up again, more slowly this time. The cold floor would only make her colder. The dizziness and nausea were both still present but not as overwhelming as before. She closed her eyes for a moment to let the worst of it pass and then opened it again. She blew out her breath through her mouth.

"Where are we?"

Spike shook his head. "Honestly, I have no idea. Once I could function again, I tried to track our turns and mileage as he drove; not easy when the oompa loompas were playing drums in my head. We drove on a regular road for maybe two miles and then turned onto a gravel road. Stayed on that for what felt like another ten and then changed over to a dirt road for several more miles. So as near as I can figure, we're probably halfway to nowhere."

Jules nodded and immediately regretted the motion as her head once more exploded in pain. She closed her eyes again and took several breaths in through her nose and out through her mouth until the pain eased. "What's our situation?"

Spike didn't answer immediately. As the silence stretched out, Jules pried one eye open to look at him. The expression on his face didn't look promising. "Spike, how bad is it?"

The usually affable demolitions expert frowned. "When I say we're halfway to nowhere, I'm not joking. There's nothing out there but dirt road, trees and snow for as far as I can see. Dublin parked the van and left us. His girlfriend picked him up, and they drove off into fucking nowhere."

Their hands were still fastened behind their backs and they were wearing just their underwear. The temperature in the van was only slightly higher than it was outside. Jules understood why he looked so worried. "Okay, things are bad but they can't be impossible. What if we hotwire the van? We can at least get some heat going…" She paused as Spike shook his head.

"I thought of that. Dublin removed the distributor cap before he left. We're dead in the water so to speak."

"Shit." Jules muttered. "So we're in the middle of nowhere in the dead of winter handcuffed with no clothes to speak of, no shoes, no heat, and no idea how far is it to safety. Did I miss anything?"

"Yeah, without our radios we also have no transponders. There's no way for the team to find us. To be honest, I don't know how we're going to get out of this without freezing to death."


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Notes: So sorry for the long delay since the last update. I've been sick with bronchitis and it's been all I can do to make it through a day of work. Therefore writing has taken a back seat to just trying to be able to breathe and not cough up a lung. Hope this is worth the wait. Temperatures mentioned in this chapter are based on the Celsius scale since that's what is used in Toronto. I'll try to make sure that the information is reasonable for the area even though it's completely different from the weather I'm used to. Thanks Tirsh for helping me make it accurate and for helping me catch my other goofs.

Disclaimer: The show Flashpoint and its characters were created by Mark Ellis and Stephanie Morgenstern and belong to them and the networks who air the episodes. Since the show has ended, our only way of getting new Flashpoint is through fan fiction. This story is my attempt to help fill the void, and the only profit I make is the warm fuzzy feeling reviews give me. Anything that does not come directly from the show is my own creation and should not be used without my permission.

Out in the Cold

Chapter 6

Greg stepped into the closet and knelt beside Ashley's body. He carefully turned her over so that she was lying on her back. Removing his glove, he placed his fingers on her neck, checking for a pulse. He let out a breath of relief. "She's alive."

He didn't raise his voice, not wanting to traumatize the girl any further than she'd already been. "Call EMS. Ashley, sweetheart, can you hear me? I'm Sergeant Greg Parker with the Police Strategic Response Unit. You're safe now. We're going to get you to the hospital and we're going to call your father and let him know you're okay."

The teenager opened her eyes and stared up at Greg fearfully. She scrambled away from him to the farthest reaches of the closet. How he wished Jules was there to reach out to the girl. How he wished both Jules and Spike were there rather than being driven away in the two vans that initially left the garage. He held up his hands non-threateningly.

"It's okay, Sweetheart. We aren't going to hurt you. We've got medics on the way. It's okay for you to come out of there. We'll keep our distance and none of us will touch you. I'm backing up now; you call the shots here."

He knew it was important considering all she'd been through to assure her that she was in control. He backed out of the closet and motioned for the other men to step back as well. The last thing the girl needed after being traumatized by Dublin and his men was to be surrounded by more men, even ones who meant her no harm.

"Myfaultmyfaultmyfaultmyfault myfaultmyfaultmyfaultmyfault myfaultmyfaultmyfaultmyfault ."

Still keeping his distance, Greg knelt down so that he was at her eye level, trying to present himself in the least threatening way. "What happened to you wasn't your fault, Ashley."

"I killed them; my fault they're dead. Why am I alive and they're dead? He should have killed me too. He was supposed to. Thomas told him to kill me and I thought he was going to and this time there wouldn't be anything I could to stop it."

"Who's dead, Ashley?" Greg kept his voice soft and soothing.

"They were trying to rescue me but I was too scared. Dublin said he'd kill me if I tried to escape so I had to stop them. I didn't want anyone to die. I never should have called my father. It's all my fault. I'm sooo sorry."

Sam's jaw was rocking. Was she talking about Jules and Spike? She sabotaged her own rescue and put Jules and Spike in danger? He knew it was wrong to blame her; she'd been through a traumatic experience and had been threatened, but it was difficult to be understanding given the danger Jules was in. Knowing the room was clear and that the presence of too many men would just make things worse rather than better, Sam left the room. If anyone questioned him about it, he would use the excuse of not wanting to further traumatize the girl as he made his way out of the house.

The truth was he couldn't help but feel restless and almost useless just standing there as Sarge worked his calming magic on the frightened teen. It was a feeling he hadn't felt since his rookie days on Team One. No, he reminded himself; he'd felt almost exactly the same way almost a year ago on a call that felt horrifically similar. The day that Jules had called while taking a rare day off to report that shots had been fired at a local restaurant. Only moments later she had found herself at the mercy of a delusional gunman. What was it about the woman he loved being in danger that immediately transported him back to his rookie days?

_You weren't even dating that day at the restaurant, _the voice in his head argued. _She wasn't just taking a rare day off; she was on a date with another guy at the time. _He sat down at the computer in the command truck and pulled up the remote tracking software that was keeping tabs on the sensors Raf had placed on the vans. He tried using that as proof that he wasn't allowing his feelings for Jules get the better of him now because he'd been just as worried about her when they weren't dating.

"_Don't kid yourself, Braddock; you loved her just as much that day as you do now. She might have been trying to date Steve but her heart belonged to you the whole time, same as yours belonged to her."_

He would never think of her as the damsel in distress sort of person. He could never insult her in such a way; not to mention, she'd kick his ass if he even tried. Still, he felt like he knew her as well as he knew himself, maybe better. She would never cower in the presence of the men who were holding her captive unless not doing so would cause harm to an innocent civilian. He wouldn't put it past her to intentionally antagonize Dublin and his men if it meant protecting either Spike or Ashley, even if it meant risking harm to herself in the process.

He wasn't just worried about Jules, he continued to assure himself. He was worried about Spike as well, though he wouldn't even try to lie that it was the same as what he was feeling about Jules's plight. Still, Spike was his friend and having not really seen his condition, Sam was concerned he'd been hurt as well.

His friend. Sam shook his head as he pulled up the transponder locations on the two missing SRU officers as well. After Matt's death, Sam had sworn he wasn't going to make friends with his new co-workers as he came to work at the SRU. He'd be friendly, sure, but he wasn't interested in making friends or especially in finding a new best friend. After Matt, he didn't think he could afford to. At first, it didn't seem to be a problem; he got along great with the guys he worked with and even enjoyed the times after work when they went for drinks or just hung out together.

Sarge and Ed were older and his bosses, so he hadn't been concerned about being tempted to become true friends with them. Wordy was married with children so his priorities were automatically different. Spike and Lew were closest to his age and while they had a lot of the same interests as Sam, their friendship had already been solidified well before he came along and he didn't want to be a third wheel. Things were the way he wanted them to be, at least with the men he worked with.

Lew's death had changed things, however. Sam could see how Spike had been affected by the loss of his best friend even if it wasn't as obvious to everyone else. Perhaps only someone who had lived through the same pain really could. He could tell the demolitions expert was adrift; at a loss to know how to deal with the pain and guilt Lew's death had brought out. The same pain and guilt he'd felt himself every day since Matt's death and almost losing Jules to a sniper's bullet. So despite his promise not to open himself up to the potential of that same kind of pain again, Sam reached out to Spike.

They had started hanging out after work more, just to keep Spike from wallowing in his own pit of despair. He would suggest to Spike that they grab a beer or two after shift even if the rest of the team didn't join them. During hockey season, they had made a point of watching a game if they weren't working even if it was just on TV. Hanging out with Spike was even easier than spending time with Matt had been and Sam quickly forgot why he'd been hesitant to make friends in the first place.

It wasn't all just fun and games. Sam had gotten to know Spike as a person at the same time. He'd discovered they had more in common than he'd ever thought. He knew Spike's relationship with his father was just as strained as the one Sam shared with the General, maybe even more so. As aggravated as Sam could get with his father, he couldn't imagine what it would be like to also know the man was dying on top of everything else. He knew it was slowly killing Spike to know he might lose his father without working things out.

He now counted Spike as one of his best friends and he wasn't sorry he'd allowed the friendship to grow. He'd be damned if he'd let anyone hurt his friend and get away with it. Not these lowlifes that had taken Spike and Jules prisoner and certainly not his sister Natalie. He'd seen the interest between the two the night before at the club and it had bothered him. He'd wanted to put a stop to it right away but he'd been too distracted by Jules sitting so close to him and the way she played with her necklace trying to appear more interested in the band than in him. Had he not been counting down the minutes until he could get Jules home and make love to her until neither of them could move, he might have said something. He wasn't worried about Natalie; Spike was a good guy and would never hurt his sister. He just wasn't sure he could say the same about Natalie. She had a thing for the bad boy; Sam was afraid she'd chew Spike up much like a piranha if given half a chance. He was just hoping that the meeting at the club had been a one time thing and not something he had to worry about.

There was a steady beep on the computer indicating the vans were still heading in opposite directions. Which one was Jules in? Was she okay?

If he hadn't planned on making friends with his new co-workers, he certainly hadn't expected to fall head over heels in love. Regardless of his plan, he'd quickly lost his heart to the beautiful and feisty female sniper. When she'd ended things with him, he'd thought he was going to lose his mind as well.

It was the only way he could explain how he was suddenly so in tune with everything about her. He'd never been one to notice things like a woman's shampoo but when she'd first come back to work after the break up, it had driven him crazy that she'd apparently switched from her usual strawberry scented shampoo to a cucumber melon. How did he even know what the hell cucumber melon smelled like and why did it make him want to bury his nose into her hair and then kiss her senseless? After Lew's death, the things he noticed about her weren't as pleasurable and had him quietly watching her in concern. He hadn't needed to hear the number on the scale during weigh-ins to know she'd lost about ten pounds that she didn't need to lose. Despite her attempts to cover the dark circles with make-up concealer, he'd noticed that she hadn't been getting enough sleep either. He'd wanted to reach out to her, help her deal with her grief like he was trying to do with Spike but it had just been too awkward the way things were between them. So all he'd been able to do was go slowly out of his mind with worry and pretend like nothing affected about her him.

Had Dr. Toth's probing into their relationship not shown them both they were only fooling themselves into thinking things were truly over between them, would he have gone on torturing himself indefinitely? Even keeping their relationship secret when he wanted to announce it to the world that he was in love didn't bother him. These months of being back with Jules had been the happiest of his life. He wasn't going to lose her now, not when he'd just gotten her back.

"Sam," Ed poked his head into the command truck.

"Ed, got a clear reading on both vehicles. The transponders seem to correspond to the same locations. With it just being the four of us, I'd suggest we coordinate with Team Four and each of us converge on a van at the same time. A surprise attack might be our best chance of getting Spike and Jules back safely."

Ed came into the truck fully and leaned against the counter space. "Sound plan but there's a major flaw in it."

Sam frowned and wondered if it would have had the same flaw if Ed had been the one to suggest it. Seemed like they'd been butting heads more often since Ed had returned to work and taken back over as team leader. "What's that?"

"Spike and Jules aren't in those vans. The people we saw in their uniforms were decoys. Sarge managed to get the information out of Ashley before the medics swooped in. Spike and Jules were in one of the last vans that pulled out. We don't have a trace on them. They are in the wind."

Sam sat back in his seat and stared at the older man. Could it get any worse? Even as he thought the words, he tried to call them back before they could tempt the fates.

Ed continued, "Apparently Dublin plans to kill them before meeting up with the rest of his crew. Not only do we not know where they are but we also don't have much time."

- FP - FP - FP -

The story in the Callaghan house had always been that the youngest child didn't know the meaning of the words _quit_ or _impossible_. Perhaps it was because she was the tagalong of four older brothers who were constantly into the usual rough and tumble mischief that boys so easily found themselves in, but Julianna Callaghan never let anything stop her. She'd been teased all of her life that she'd walked, talked, and gotten into trouble at a much earlier age than any of her brothers because she was determined to keep pace with them. It was that drive and determination that had made her the outstanding cop she became and probably the reason she'd been the first female to make not only the Strategic Response Unit ever but the elite Team One on top of that.

Now as she sat in the cold van with her hands cuffed behind her, dressed only in her underwear, her body sore from the battering it had sustained, and her head pounding with a dizzying force, she heard Spike's defeated tone and instantly rejected it. The situation might not be ideal but this would not be how things would end for her and Spike. Not today, not if she had any say in it.

"Spike, we're going to get out of this. We just have to think of something."

Spike slumped down beside her and she was pretty sure he wanted to run his hands through his hair in frustration but couldn't because his hands were cuffed as well. "What do you think I've been doing? I've thought of everything and none of it is coming up looking good for us."

Jules bit her lower lip. Their situation was tenuous at best but she couldn't - wouldn't - admit defeat. It went against everything in her. She drew her legs up closer to her body and wiggled her bound hands lower. As Spike watched, his eyes wide in disbelief, she managed to get her hands around to the front of her body. There wasn't much she could do about the cuffs themselves but at least her hands were now where she could see them and she could at least do some things with them. Spike shook his head.

"I'm pretty sure I could never get my body to move like that. How the hell did you do that?"

Jules shrugged. "My mom would credit those gymnastic classes she made me take when I was a kid. I think it has more to do with having four older brothers who thought it was funny to tie their little sister up so she wouldn't follow them around. If these were ropes, I probably could get free of them given enough time."

Spike grinned in spite of the situation. It was on the tip of his tongue to make a lewd comment but figured it would only get him a wallop upside the head when they were finally free. It made him feel better that he was actually thinking in terms that they would finally be free instead of convinced it was the end for both of them. Jules's confidence was contagious, but it didn't fully dispel his worries. His shoulders slumped again. "Even if you did get free, it wouldn't change the fact we're still in the middle of nowhere with no way to get to the edge of somewhere."

He moved to the end of the van to look out the glass in the small window in the door of the van. He glanced back at Jules. "Maybe we should take our chances trying to walk."

Jules shook her head. "We're better off staying where we are. This van might be cold but it's not as cold as it would be outside. Besides, you have a busted ankle; you shouldn't be walking on it. Not to mention that we're both wearing just socks; not exactly the right footgear for this weather if you know what I mean."

Spike shook his head. "So we just sit here and wait to freeze to death? Waiting for someone to come to our rescue doesn't seem like your style."

Jules frowned, resisting the urge to throw up. Between her head throbbing and the nausea, she was ready to slam her own head back against the side of the van just to slip into unconsciousness again and escape the bad feeling. "It's not, but losing my feet to frostbite isn't either. I'm not saying we do nothing, but we've got to be smart about it too."

Spike nodded reluctantly. From the moment his rope had been cut, he'd felt nothing but helpless. He wouldn't voice it out loud because he really didn't want to get hit by Jules but the chivalrous side of him kept screaming that it was up to him to protect her. He knew he hadn't done a good enough job in that department. She'd been hurt more than he had, and that just bothered him way more than he wanted to let on. He knew she was just as capable of taking care of herself as he could. She was never one to let her gender affect anything she did and she expected the rest of them to not treat her any differently because she was a woman. Usually he could do just that but at the end of the day, he couldn't forget his father always telling him as a kid that a gentleman always takes care of a lady and treats her right. Jules was more than just a lady. She was like a sister to him; more of a sister than his sister-in-law had ever been. The sister-in-law he only saw when he insisted on getting to be an uncle to the nephew his no-account deadbeat brother had abandoned as a baby. The brother who had essentially disappeared off the face of the globe because he had became more interested in drugs and booze than his own family a decade ago. A brother that as a cop Spike should have been able to reach in time to save him but hadn't. A brother that he never talked about, only Lew who had become the brother he'd lost had known the whole story. Just one of the things he felt guilty about it. He would not go to his grave today with Jules's death added to that list. "So what do you suggest we do?"

Jules looked around. "First I think we should move up to the front of the van. The leather seats won't be much warmer but it'll be better than this cold metal floor." She paused, not really wanting to make the suggestion she knew she should make but knowing it made absolute sense. She frowned but then changed her expression to neutral so Spike wouldn't get the wrong idea. "I also think we should share one seat. We're both losing body heat but maybe sitting close together would help us conserve what's left."

Spike nodded. He knew it was a good idea; basic survival training in the cold always suggested it, but usually people in those survival situations were both wearing more than underwear. "You sure?"

Jules nodded. "Yeah, we've got to do everything we can to keep warm until we figure out a better plan for getting out of this."

She didn't think twice about it. She'd had the same basic survival training Spike had had and knew all about sharing body heat. It was basic common sense and it wasn't like they were talking in the same context that Sam had meant that night her jeep had broken down. Nothing different from the times they had worked in tandem during hostage negotiation training and he'd been the hostage taker and she'd been the hostage.

Spike moved to the front of the van first, taking the colder spot next to the window. Jules followed and spooned in next to him, feeling like having her back to him was less intimate than if she were facing him. Immediately it felt a little warmer even though it was cold skin on top of cold skin. Not at all like the night Sam's warm body had pressed against her chilled body warming her against the cold she'd put herself through. Spike did his best to cover her bare skin as much as he possibly could without being intrusive.

"Better?" Even though it immediately changed to condensation when it left his body, his breath felt warm on the back of her neck.

She nodded. "How cold do you think it really is?"

She felt him shrug. "It was about minus twenty when we started the rescue attempt. I had to record it in the transcript before we started. I can't imagine it's gotten much warmer. In here, I'd say it's probably at least ten degrees warmer but that won't last long. At least it's not snowing."

She nodded. "If it starts to snow now that you've said that, I'm going to have to smack you later. Just saying."

Spike chuckled; if they both lost their sense of humor all would be lost. "Duly warned."

They were quiet for several minutes. The only sound in the van was the chattering of their teeth. Jules found herself pressing in closer to Spike's body looking for warmth that just wasn't there. Again she found herself wishing it was Sam she was nestled up against. He never seemed to feel the cold like she did and his body always felt warm and inviting when pressed against hers. She'd often told him during the winter months that he was better than any electric blanket at keeping her warm and toasty during the night. She couldn't imagine even the bitterly cold interior of the van would affect him the way it was her.

"Don't take this the wrong way but if I have to be stuck in a van with barely any clothes on huddled up next to someone for warmth, I'm glad it's you and not one of the guys. I just hope I don't have to be worried about a jealous boyfriend when this is all over." Spike broke the silence suddenly. Jules jumped slightly, having been so lost in her thoughts, she'd momentarily forgotten he was there. She thought about his statement. She couldn't very well tell him that she and Sam were dating again and it seemed wrong to outright lie.

"I don't think anyone is going to fault you for trying to keep us both warm. I don't think we'll escape a serious ribbing from the rest of the team however once we get out of this, but I could see where it could be worse if it were you and one of the other guys." Her whole body was shaking uncontrollably but the movement was doing nothing to warm her. A morbid thought crossed her mind; if they didn't survive this, would the team ever find their frozen remains?

"I'll never complain about being hot again." Spike promised. "Give me drills in the heat in full gear any day."

Jules chuckled. "You remember that summer not long after you joined the team when we thought we'd all collapse from heat exhaustion before Ed gave us a break?"

Spike groaned but laughed as well. "Yeah, I don't think I remember a hotter day in all the time I've been with SRU." It wasn't unusual to see numbers in the high thirties on the thermometer but usually only with the negative sign in front of it. Seeing them in the positive side with heat indexes closer to forty made for record breaking highs.

The heat had made them all pretty cranky and Ed more so than the rest. As the heat got worse, someone had started setting up random pranks; practically everyone had been a victim at one point or another. On this particularly hot day, Ed had been the victim of one of them and had demanded that the culprit step forward. When nobody would claim responsibility, he'd decided they all had had too much time on their hands. He'd ordered them to gear up and proceeded to run them through every drill on the training field that he could. He'd made sure they weren't in danger of really getting sick in the process but the entire team had been pretty miserable at the end of shift.

"I think it made him madder that you didn't even seem to break a sweat no matter how hot it was." Spike added, remembering the day. "Wasn't really fair for him to make you suffer through the drills though. Not like you had anything to do with the pranks, but you never complained. The rest of us were cursing Ed for all he was worth - when we could manage to breathe at all - but you just took it all with a smile."

"Wouldn't have been fair for me to complain." Jules admitted softly.

Spike twisted around so that he could actually see her face. Even at the end of that grueling shift, no one would take responsibility for pulling the stunt that had gotten them all in trouble. Lew, Wordy, and he had always suspected it was Rolie who had set it up because he was known for pulling pranks all the time. "Are you saying you were the one…?"

As he trailed off in an obvious question mark, Jules shrugged slightly, the move almost indistinguishable from the shaking she was doing from the cold. "I never meant for Ed to get caught up in it. My target was Rolie because I caught him setting the prank in my locker the day before. I never said anything because I knew everyone thought it was Rolie who had done it and figured it was the second best thing to actually getting him. I'd appreciate it if Ed never had to find out it was me though."

If the situation weren't as desperate as it was, Spike would have teased her with this new information. And if they somehow survived this predicament, he might do so later. Currently though, it had more of a deathbed confession ring to it that chilled him even more than the weather. Spike found he couldn't find much reason to be hopeful.

"Dublin wants us dead; he made that pretty clear." Spike mused and Jules didn't mind him talking since his breath was slightly warmer than anything else around her. "What I don't get is why he didn't just dump our bodies out here in the middle of nowhere. Why leave us the disabled van as a little bit of protection? Was he trying to give us a chance?"

Jules shook her head. "No, he's counting on us freezing to death. He wasn't being kind leaving us in the van; he was just making sure he prolonged our suffering."

"If we don't come up with a plan soon, he's going to get his wish." Spike's tone was grim.

This time Jules didn't even try to argue with him.


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Notes: Sorry for the delay. My only excuse is that the ideas for Re-Education overshadowed this story this week. Hope you enjoy, the end didn't go where I expected it to, so please don't be too mad. It will be toward the end of the weekend before I'm able to update either this story or Re-Education.

Disclaimer: The show Flashpoint and its characters were created by Mark Ellis and Stephanie Morgenstern and belong to them and the networks who air the episodes. Since the show has ended, our only way of getting new Flashpoint is through fan fiction. This story is my attempt to help fill the void, and the only profit I make is the warm fuzzy feeling reviews give me. Anything that does not come directly from the show is my own creation and should not be used without my permission.

Out in the Cold

Chapter 7

"I can't believe you let them get away."

There wasn't room in the command truck with five men inside for any one of them to pace, but if it were possible, Detective Harris would be doing so. The detective had arrived just before the medics had transported Ashley to the hospital. At first it had looked like he was going to follow the ambulance, but after placing a call to Judge Ambrose, Detective Harris had gathered the members of Team One and had demanded to know what had happened.

Sam narrowed his eyes. It wasn't like they wanted to let Dublin and his men get away. Wasn't like he or anyone else on the team wanted Jules and Spike to be in danger. The Guns and Gangs detective made it sound like they had been sleeping on the job or something. They got Ashley back alive didn't they?

"We're tracking them; we had no choice for the safety of the ones being held captive to let Dublin and his people go but we know their location." Greg assured the detective. There was just a touch of hardness in the older man's voice that usually wasn't there on a call. Sam noticed it but didn't comment. They were all a little on edge with this one since Spike and Jules were in danger. "It would have helped if you'd given us a little better intel on Thomas Dublin this morning during the briefing. Things we should have known before we made the rescue attempt."

Detective Harris didn't look fazed. "I told you everything we knew. I gave you good information; your people just screwed up, Parker. I guess Team One isn't as good as everyone thinks."

Greg jabbed a finger at the Detective's chest. Sam could tell Ed and Raf were like him and wanted to use more force than just a finger jab. "Listen to me and listen to me good. My people didn't screw up. You're telling me all this time keeping tabs on Dublin and you never knew he had a twin brother? Never knew he had surveillance cameras all over this place? Never knew he had people outside this house ready to provide him with a secondary bolt hole? Damnit Harris, I've got two people still in danger. They did everything they could to protect Ashley and get her free. Risked their lives to protect hers. Now she's safe and they're in danger. Put aside the holier than thou crap and help us figure out where Dublin could have taken them."

Despite the small space, the detective took two steps back and seemed to cower just slightly under Greg's almost calm tirade. "We do know of a couple of associates not as closely affiliated with Dublin. If he had to turn to someone for help, he would probably turn to one of them. I'll do what I can. I'll also assign as many of my men as you think you might be able to use on the search. I already have several people contacting informants that might have information."

Greg nodded, breathing hard. "Fine. Relay the information to Sam. He'll use the computers here in the command truck to track down leads."

Sam frowned. "Sarge, I'm no Spike when it comes to the computers…"

The sergeant's mouth was a grim line but the pride was evident in his eyes. "No, but you are Sam and I know that your best will be good enough for what we need done. I trust you and I'm counting on you. More importantly Spike and Jules are counting on you; I know you won't let us down. I've got to check in with Holleran; let me know when you have something."

Sam nodded. He appreciated the trust that Greg was putting in him, but at the same time, he couldn't help but feel a little more of the burden weigh down his shoulders. Jules was counting on him. She trusted him. He'd move heaven and hell to get her back safely. The detective started to feed him names to run through the computer and Sam turned to the task at hand. He didn't see Ed slip out of the truck behind Greg.

Outside the command vehicle, Ed grabbed Greg's arm, turning him so that the older man was facing him. "What's going on?"

Greg sighed. "Isn't it obvious? This call has gone to hell in a hand basket and out people are in danger."

Ed nodded. "Yeah, I know that but you never lose your cool during a call. Not in all the years I've known you. That might have seemed mild and in control to anyone else but I know you too well. You were one step away from feeding Harris your fist. You know something you haven't told us. What is it?"

The frown on Greg's face spoke volumes. "I managed to get a little more information out of Ashley before the medics took her to the hospital. You were there when she told us he stripped them of their uniforms so that the decoys could wear them." Greg looked away trying to get a little more control over his emotions. He was in charge of his team; he was the one who was ultimately responsible for the welfare of his people. He'd already made one notification to next of kin that their son had died in the line of duty. He'd be damned if he was going to have to do that to the Callaghans and Scarlattis today.

"Greg?" Ed pressed. He knew the responsibility Greg shouldered but he also knew he didn't have to shoulder it alone. He was the team leader; he shared equally in the burden. "What are you not wanting to say?"

Greg met Ed's eyes again. "Ashley said Dublin left them stripped to their underwear, Eddie. It's freezing cold today and Spike and Jules left that house in nothing more than their underwear. Ashley also said she didn't think either of them was conscious at the time either. She's not sure what all Dublin did to them because she wasn't in the room with them the whole time but she said neither of them looked to be in good shape. They don't have a lot of time, Eddie. Dublin plans to kill them, and if he finds out that his brother didn't kill Ashley like he was supposed to…"

Ed nodded, his expression grim. "He'll probably take it out on Jules and Spike. Well, we'll just have to make sure we get to them in time." Greg nodded and turned to go report to Holleran. Ed stopped him. "Boss, we will get to them in time. We're not going to lose either one of them. Not today, not any day."

- FP - FP - FP -

"Too bad the sun isn't out; it would turn this van into a sauna." Spike commented at the tail end of his story. Knowing it was important to stay awake given the desperately cold conditions, they had decided it would be a good idea to take turns re-telling stories of past calls or adventures. They were both natural storytellers and it had proven to be not only a good way to remain alert, but also to pass the time. It was getting harder to not give in to the lethargy weighing down their freezing bodies.

"Hmm? What's that, Sam?" Jules murmured drowsily.

Spike frowned and nudged her body with his shoulder. "Wake up, Callaghan. No fair going to sleep on me. You'll hurt my feelings."

"I'm awake, Spike." The sleepy cadence to her voice didn't quite agree with her words. "Ambient heat from the sun would be nice right about now. See, I was listening."

He nudged her again, not convinced. "You called me Sam."

Her body, which had been completely relaxed against him, stiffened just slightly. He wouldn't have even noticed it if there had been more of a separation between them. She shook her head. "Don't be ridiculous. I think you must be hallucinating."

Spike knew he had heard her correctly but wasn't going to argue with the only person he currently had any contact at all with. "Yeah, sure; okay. Your turn for a story."

He only half listened as she started talking about the first team picnic she could remember attending. He was worried about her. She was so much smaller than he was with very little if any body fat to help insulate her from the low temperatures. It stood to reason that she would be affected by the cold more than he was. He was trying to remember the signs and symptoms of hypothermia when he caught the words "purple unicorn" coming from her mouth.

"You testing to see if I'm listening there? Purple unicorn? At the team picnic?"

She nodded, her head almost clunking against him. "Yeah, it stole the baked beans. Ed was so mad; he started chasing him and throwing mangos at him."

Talk about hallucinations, Spike thought, growing more concerned. Would this be how things ended for them? Each watching the other slowly descend into madness until they just fell asleep and died? He wanted to believe it was only a matter of time before the rest of the team somehow tracked them down, but it was getting harder and harder. Now seeing the state Jules had so quickly slipped into, he was almost terrified. He'd already lost one friend and colleague to this job, helpless to do anything to stop it. He'd be damned if he'd sit idly by and watch Jules meet the same fate. Maybe she wasn't making sense but at least she was still talking. He had to keep her that way even if her words were starting to slur.

"What about Sarge? He likes baked beans even more than Ed. I can't picture him letting that unicorn eat them without trying to negotiate their release."

"Hmm?" Jules twisted in the seat so she was now facing him. Her head trying to burrow into his chest. He felt something sticky at her temple and remembered suddenly that she had a head wound. Inwardly he cursed himself; the cold must be affecting his mind more than he thought for him to have forgotten how she'd been unconscious earlier. A concussion on top of hypothermia was asking for trouble.

"Jules, wake up. Ed'll have your head if he catches you sleeping on the job." He tried to keep the panic out of his voice but it was difficult. If she went to sleep, he wasn't sure she'd survive. If she died right there beside him, he knew he wouldn't survive.

"Sam, I think the heat's out. I don't wanna get outta bed tonight to check it. Scoot closer so I can share your body heat. Don't be a blanket hog, 'kay?"

Spike's eyes widened. Her tone, while still slurred and disjointed, sounded more like a sleepy lover than anything. Was she hallucinating still? Maybe remembering a time from before she was shot? Maybe he was the one hallucinating now. Surely she and Sam weren't sleeping together currently, not while the team was on probation.

"Jules, it's Spike. I know you're sleepy but you really gotta stay awake, please?" She didn't answer but snuggled in closer to him. Her handcuffed hands were resting palm side down against his chest. When had she stopped shivering? "Shit, Jules. Please."

She didn't respond. If his hands had been free or even just in front of him, he'd try pinching or lightly slapping her awake. He briefly thought about biting her, hoping the pain would rouse her but couldn't bring himself to do so. Still, he couldn't not do something. So, he did the next best thing he could think of. With a silent apology and a prayer that she was asleep and not unconscious, Spike used his dwindling strength to push her away. She fell unceremoniously into a heap onto the cold metal floor.

"What the hell? Ouch! Shit! Spike?"

Spike had never been so glad to hear Jules yell at him. She sounded awake and lucid, so different from just moments earlier. He did feel a little guilty; he'd forgotten about her probably bruised ribs and other aches and pains. Even so, he'd rather have her sore than dead. He frowned at the accusatory look she was giving him.

"I didn't have a choice; you were babbling and then you fell asleep and all I could think of was the warnings in first aid class that you didn't let someone who was hypothermic or with a head injury fall asleep. Since you fall into both categories, I was really worried."

Her face looked pinched with worry as she continued to sit on the floor of the van. "Babbling? God, please tell me I didn't say anything embarrassing." _Or subject to getting Sam or me kicked off the team_ she added silently.

Spike shook his head. "Nothing I would hold against you or use for blackmail purposes." Although Ed chasing a purple, baked beans eating unicorn would be a funny tale to tell if they survived things. He frowned; _when_ they survived this.

Instead of looking relieved, Jules's face became more ashen. Suddenly she scrambled up from the floor and toward the driver's side door. She fumbled with her numb, handcuffed hands and managed to open the door before she threw up. Spike turned away slightly just to give her just a little bit of privacy. He knew he hated it when someone watched him be sick like that. Her throwing up alarmed him just as much as her babbling and going asleep earlier. Nausea and vomiting were not good signs when it came to a head injury. They needed help and they needed help fast. Help they weren't going to get sitting in a van.

_In a van down by the river_. Now he was starting to think he was losing it as well. Here they were, slowly dying from the cold and he was remembering old Saturday Night Live sketches. _Down by the river_. If only there was a river or some other recognizable landmark that would help him pinpoint exactly where they were.

"Sorry about that." Jules apologized as she sat up in the driver's seat and closed the door. She leaned her throbbing head against the back of the seat and closed her eyes. She told herself she wasn't going to sleep but she had to close her eyes in order to abate the dizziness her sudden movements had unleashed. "I guess I moved too fast."

"I helped with that. Sorry." Spike apologized as well.

"S'kay. Not like I gave you much of a choice. Damn this headache. Can't think when my head is pounding. Gotta be able to think; gotta figure a way out of this."

Spike nodded. He wasn't sure how she was planning on coming up with a plan but it beat worrying about her falling asleep again, and at least she was sounding more like herself. "Well, they say two heads are better than one so let's think together. I said we were in the middle of nowhere but we know that's not really the truth. We've got to be somewhere. We just have to figure out where. You see anything that looks familiar?"

She shook her head, not even opening her eyes. "No. Spike, you said we drove for like forever but what about whoever picked Dublin up? Did the car come from the same direction or the opposite?"

Having something to concentrate on made Spike feel a lot better. "Opposite. I could see the car coming while looking through the windshield. Maybe it's not that far to civilization in that direction. Maybe we should try to walk out. It beats sitting here hoping someone is coming."

Jules frowned and shook her head before groaning as the movement caused the throbbing to worsen. "Can't. The poppy field has poison in it. Too dangerous."

Spike glanced at her sharply. Once again she'd quickly slipped from lucid conversation to talking out of her head in no time. It scared him more than he could say. "Jules! Open your eyes, right now. Do it now."

Slowly her eyes fluttered then opened completely. "Geeze, Spike, bossy much? You sound like Ed. I wasn't sleeping."

"Maybe but you stopped making sense again. Something about a poppy field being poisoned."

Her eye lids drooped once more. "Yeah, but the snow probably killed the poison. Thanks Glenda."

Slowly Spike understood the reference. "Right, been watching _Wizard of Oz_ recently? Seriously, Jules, shoes or no shoes, I don't see where we've got a choice. I want to believe the team's going to come through for us but I don't care how good they are, they aren't miracle workers. They may not find us in time if we stay put. Walking can keep us warm and get us closer to safety."

"And walking in our socks will get us frostbite. I'm not a fan of losing toes." She refused to think she could die today; she'd never give up like that. She had too strong a will to survive to admit defeat, but she couldn't deny their situation was grim. She couldn't be quite so certain that they would come out of this completely unscathed. She might have fought her way back after being shot but she couldn't delude herself into thinking she could do the same if she had to have toes amputated due to frostbite.

_If you lost your spot on the team, you and Sam wouldn't have to hide your relationship anymore. _She inwardly cursed that voice in her head. No question in her mind that Sam was important to her, more important than any person she'd ever allowed into her life. As much as she would love to be completely open about how she felt about Sam, neither of them would want it to happen this way. She'd fight however she had to fight to get out of this okay.

"Spike, we can't risk it. I won't risk it."

He wanted to argue. He knew staying put made sense in most cases, but now, it just seemed like giving up. If Spike were honest, he couldn't really believe that Jules wasn't fighting harder. She was so not the damsel in distress type that he couldn't believe she was sitting around waiting for someone else to come save her. She should be the one coming up with ways to get them out of this, not the one telling him it wouldn't be feasible.

Before he could rationalize an argument that would make sense, Jules once more turned toward the door and fumbled for it to open. After throwing up for the second time, she continued to lean over the seat, too tired to move. Even though the upside down position only added to pounding in her head. She knew she should sit up but even as she was mustering up the strength, she spotted something under the seat. She sat up, blinking at Spike and breathing hard.

"Spike, check under your seat."


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Notes: I'm glad people liked the purple unicorn story. That was my favorite part of the last chapter.

Disclaimer: The show Flashpoint and its characters were created by Mark Ellis and Stephanie Morgenstern and belong to them and the networks who air the episodes. Since the show has ended, our only way of getting new Flashpoint is through fan fiction. This story is my attempt to help fill the void, and the only profit I make is the warm fuzzy feeling reviews give me. Anything that does not come directly from the show is my own creation and should not be used without my permission.

Out in the Cold

Chapter 8

_Look under his seat?_ Spike gulped, why did she want him to look under his seat? An uneasiness settled in his stomach as he imagined the different possibilities. He wanted to hope it was something good like a spare distributor cap. That would be awesome; even with their hands bound they could figure out a way to replace it and not only get the much needed heat flowing but could then drive to safety. He wanted to think it was good news like that but her expression didn't look overjoyed so he rejected that possibility and any of the other good news it might be. Instead he focused on the bad.

Was there a snake coiled and ready to strike? He hated snakes with a passion. Had hated them from the time he'd been a teenager and went hiking in the woods with his buddies and almost stepped on one before he realized it wasn't just another stick. He'd fallen all over himself trying to get away and had been the laughing stock of all his buddies - buddies who would have no doubt reacted the same way had it been one of them instead - for years afterward. No, it was too cold for snakes. Too cold for humans as well, he thought grimly.

Some sort of surveillance equipment? Was Dublin watching and listening to them, maybe just waiting to see when they died? Why would he do that? He made it pretty clear he really didn't care about them as long as they died. Why go to the trouble of bugging the van?

He didn't want to think about his worst fear. Had Dublin set a bomb under the seat? Had he decided that it wasn't enough to let them freeze to death but planned to blow them up as well? He didn't want to look, didn't want to know someone else he cared about was going to meet Lew's fate. It didn't matter how good he was at defusing bombs; with his hands bound behind him, he was powerless. Just as he had been powerless to stop the landmine from taking Lew away from them, he would be just as helpless to prevent a bomb under their seat from doing the same thing to him and Jules. At least this time, he wouldn't have to live with the guilt.

"Spike, look under your seat." Jules was more insistent this time. She had returned to a sitting position, the blood rushing to her head from leaning over making her headache almost unbearable.

He couldn't allow his fears to paralyze him; whatever was there, he had to face it like a man. Spike leaned down. There wasn't a lot of space between the seat and the floor. He frowned. No bomb, no snake, no distributor cap, no Jimmy Hoffa. "What am I supposed to be looking at? There's nothing under here."

"Shit. I was hoping you did. I've got what looks like a pair of mud boots under this seat."

Mud boots. Something that would cover their mostly bare feet and allow them to walk away from the van with something less than the absolute certainty of frost bite. But only one of them. Damn, he could see why she didn't seem overjoyed about what should be the first piece of good news since this whole thing started.

She continued, her voice even and not betraying a trace of emotion. "If we could figure out where we are and that safety wasn't that far away, one of us could go for help while the other stayed here in case help arrived."

"NO!" The reply practically exploded out of his mouth. He shook his head. There was no freaking way he was going to leave her there alone when she'd already fallen asleep twice with him sitting right beside her. There was also no freaking way he was going to let her walk off alone given the hallucinations and delusions she was having. There was no telling what she might "see" on the road out and wander off to investigate where they would never find her body. "We go together or not at all."

Jules frowned. "Spike, there's only one pair of boots. We can't both go."

"Then I'll carry you piggy back if I have to…"

Her frown deepened as if he were a small child being difficult and refusing to see the truth. "Your ankle…"

"Like you haven't pushed pain aside in order to do what you had to do. We all have. It's not like you could carry me…" Immediately he realized he'd taken the wrong direction. Never suggest there was something Jules Callaghan couldn't do. That was worse than waving a red flag in front of an angry bull, more dangerous too. "I mean I know you could carry me. Hell, you could probably throw King Kong over your shoulder and carry him up the side of the Empire State Building instead of vice versa and of the team, I probably come closest to your weight despite Ma's good cooking. You could carry me if you had to but there's not a chance in hell that I'm letting you. My ankle might be tweaked but that's nothing compared to the job Dublin did on your ribs and your head. Besides, with my hands behind my back and yours in front, it would be a little more awkward trying to carry me. I couldn't hold on as well as you could."

His explanation seemed to placate her slightly. She stared out the window trying to figure out their next move. There had to be a better answer. She sighed. "It doesn't really matter. We don't know where we'd be going if we did try to walk out. We could just end up getting lost worse than we already are."

Spike didn't think he'd ever heard her sound so defeated. Not even in the days immediately after she'd been shot. She didn't even sound like herself. He sighed. "What do you think the rest of the team is doing right now?"

Jules didn't want to admit that she'd been sitting there wondering what Sam was doing. Was he keeping his personal feelings at bay so he didn't give away that they were once more together? Or had his protective nature that she both loved and got irritated by at the same time won out over reason and have him in a frenzy trying to find them? She wasn't so sure she could guarantee how she'd be reacting if the situation were reversed. That scared her just a little. In that moment she was glad she was the one in danger and not Sam. She'd rather face any danger in the world than have to stand by not knowing if Sam was okay.

"Jules?" There was a note of panic in Spike's voice and she realized he was afraid she'd spaced out on him again. She turned her head to face him.

"I'm sure they are tracking down every possible lead to find us. They'll round up everyone who's ever known Dublin to figure out where he would go or where he'd take us. I would almost feel sorry for him if I weren't so cold and sore."

Spike nodded. "If anyone can find us, it's Team One."

Jules nodded. She'd never trusted anyone as much as she trusted the men she worked with. She knew her father had worried when she announced that she was moving so far away from home and his protection. His almost daily calls checking on her slacked off once he realized that she'd come under the wing of Greg Parker. He was more than just a boss but had quickly become almost a surrogate father as well. She might have been born with four older brothers but she'd inherited a few more when she'd joined the team. And they were probably more protective of her than her own highly protective brothers had ever thought of being. And then there was Sam.

Her heart skipped a beat just thinking about him. He'd never fallen under that label of brother not even from the first day he joined the team. There had always been something about him that made her see him differently no matter how much she'd tried to fight it. The first night they had given in to the passion that had surrounded them, it was like she had finally found the home she'd been searching for. Walking away from him and that sense of completion would always be the hardest choice she'd ever made, and probably the worst mistake as well. She wouldn't walk away from him, not ever again. Not voluntarily and not like this. "If anyone can get out of this on our own, it's us. We're going to be okay, Spike. We won't settle for anything else."

Spike was about to comment when something in the distance caught his eye out of the windshield. He watched for a long moment trying to make sure he was seeing exactly what he thought he was seeing. He grinned and looked back over at Jules.

"I think I know where we are."

- FP - FP - FP -

"I think I know where they are."

Sam sat back in his chair and resisted the urge to rub his tired eyes. He didn't know how Spike spent so much time in front of a computer without going blind. Almost immediately, Greg, Ed and Raf were behind him peering over his shoulder. Ed folded his arms across his chest. "You found Jules and Spike?"

Sam wished with all his might that he could say yes. If he had figured out where they were, he wasn't sure he'd be able to stop himself from just rushing out of the command truck to get to Jules. The more time that passed while she was missing and in danger, the harder it was getting to pretend he wasn't going out of his mind with worry. "No, unfortunately; but I think I've figured out where Dublin and his men are."

Every available unit had been helping in the search. About an hour earlier, Wordy and his partner from Guns and Gangs had located one of the vans Raf had tagged with the tracking system. It had been abandoned with no sign of the gang members. Sam had been disappointed but not surprised. They had known Jules and Spike weren't in the vehicles they had been tracking but had hoped there would be some way to find them after finding the vans.

Greg gave his shoulder a reassuring pat. "Good job, Sam. What do you have?"

Sam wanted to stretch, feeling like he had been sitting at the computer too long. Not only did his eyes hurt from staring at the screen but his muscles were sore from hunching over the keyboard as well. _Suck it up, Braddock. Jules is hurt far worse than your sore muscles. You could bet she isn't whining about it. _

"I've got a lock on their transponders." He pointed to the map where two orange dots were blinking.

Raf frowned. "They probably dumped the radios when they dumped the vans."

Sam shook his head. "I thought the same thing at first." He leaned back over the keyboard and pulled up a second map and overlaid it on the current map. He marked a couple of locations that were miles away from the blinking orange dots. "Here's where Wordy found the first van and where the second one was located. Nowhere close."

"Okay, so they dumped them later." Raf persisted.

Sam's left hand clenched and unclenched into a fist below the table. He knew Raf was just trying to see all possibilities but Sam also knew that unless they located Dublin, their chances of finding Jules and Spike in time were dwindling. "I thought of that as well but if they dumped them, then they dumped them on something that is not stationary. I know it's hard to see it on this map but when I zoom in on them as far as I can, they are moving."

Ed nodded. "It makes sense that Dublin kept the radios. He knows we're looking for him and he wants to monitor our traffic. He doesn't know we switched to cells as soon as we knew the radio had been compromised and he wouldn't know about the transponders. You find out anything about the location?"

Sam nodded, reassured by Ed's support. "It's a warehouse owned by a Martin Houser. I couldn't find any known direct connection between Houser and Dublin from the information Harris gave us." His tone indicated just how he really felt about the information the detective from Guns and Gangs had given them. He couldn't wait until the next time Wordy joined them for drinks so he could find out the low down as to whether Harris was as much of an ass as he really seemed. He pulled up a picture of an attractive young woman. "However, this is Houser's daughter. Look familiar?"

He nodded his head toward the rest of the surveillance pictures that Harris had finally given them after Greg had crawled down his throat earlier. Sure enough the same woman was in a couple of different photographs. "It took me awhile but I was able to do a search on his cell phone records. After our arrival, Dublin made one phone call out and received one in, both to Martin Houser. Dublin is in that warehouse, I'm sure of it."

Greg regarded the information carefully. "We need a different location, Sam."

The younger man frowned, his frustration growing by leaps and bounds. "Sarge, I'm telling you Dublin is in that warehouse. We can't let him get away. You told me you trusted me to do this, so trust me now. Jules and Spike might not have much longer; we can't waste time…"

"Sam, buddy, I do trust you and we're going to that warehouse. I need a plausible location that we can announce on the radio as our target. If Dublin is monitoring our radio frequency, let's use that to our advantage. We'll let him think he's safe; he'll be more likely to stay put and less likely to be watching for us. It'll be easier for us to get the drop on him."

Sam was embarrassed that he'd apparently overreacted. He flushed red. It was mistakes like that that would be make it easier for Greg to figure out that he and Jules were involved again. He had to be more careful. He turned back toward the computer and typed in a few commands, hoping more than anything to take the attention off himself. He frowned.

"I've got a garage on Elmhurst and Cypress that is leased to the father of one of the men suspected of being a part of Dublin's gang. It's far enough away from his actual location that it could be a safe dupe."

Greg nodded. "Okay, Sam you are with me, Raf with Ed. We're going to the location Sam tracked the transponders to. Raf, stay on the cell phones with me and Ed switch back to the secure radio channel. You and Sam will communicate false information while Raf and I will stay connected through the cells. We've got to make this look real so Dublin doesn't suspect anything. Let's go get our people back."

Sam carried one of the laptops with him as he followed Greg to the SUV. He wasn't about to lose the tracking on those transponders, holding on to them was his only link to Jules at the moment . Once he fastened his seatbelt, he radioed the distraction address to Ed. As the other SUV pulled away, Sam glanced over at Greg who was just watching him. The way the older man's gaze was piercing into him, Sam felt like he was seeing straight into his soul. He resisted the urge to shift uncomfortably knowing the profiler would know there was more bothering him if he did. Knowing Sarge was probably wondering anyway, he felt like he should offer up some reassurances, especially after his blurt outs in the command truck.

"Sarge, Spike and Jules are my friends. I'm worried about them; I'm not going to lie about that. I can and will do my job though. You don't have to worry."

Greg nodded. "I know you can do the job, Sam. I've never doubted that. However I also know you are a fiercely protective person, especially when it comes to people you care about. It's never easy when one of our own is in danger. It wasn't when Jules was shot and the two of you were pinned down on that roof. It wasn't when Lew stepped on the mine and we were doing everything we could to save him knowing it was useless. It wasn't when we got the officer down call and knew it was Ed who'd been shot. This is no exception. We're going to do everything possible to make sure Spike and Jules are okay, but remember we've got to do it by the book. We can't let our emotions get the better of us. I'm saying this for my sake as well as yours. Spike and Jules are our friends but more than that I feel responsible for them. Their getting captured and hurt feels like a major fail on my part."

Sam shook his head. "Sarge, none of us think any of this is your fault. I'm betting Spike and Jules would be the first ones to tell you that you shouldn't feel you're to blame. Jules especially would kick your ass if she thought you were beating yourself up."

Greg nodded as he backed the SUV out of the driveway and turned onto the street. "Yeah, she would. She'd do the same to you if she knew you were taking the weight of all this on your own shoulders. We're a team, Sam. We might be temporarily down a couple of members but we're still a team. We're all in this together. Copy?"

"Copy that." Sam acknowledged, realizing all over again why Greg Parker was the best when it came to profiling. That was why he was the sergeant and head negotiator. Almost seamlessly Greg had countered the worst of Sam's fears by voicing his own. Sam wouldn't say all of his concerns had been abated but at least he could now remember that he wasn't alone in his fears. He might love Jules more than he'd ever loved anybody even if he had to hide how he felt about her, but he didn't love her alone. It was just a different kind of love.

The rest of the ride was spent with Sam and Ed relaying carefully scripted tactical plans about the fake raid that also gave the team the plan for the actual raid. It kept him from thinking too hard about what kind of danger Jules might currently be facing, although she wasn't far from his mind. Occasionally during brief lapses of conversation, he couldn't stop seeing her being held by Dublin, wounded but defiant. He couldn't wait until he could hold her in his arms again and kiss her bruises to make them better. Even if he had to wait until everyone else was gone and sneak back in order to do so. Once she was back in his arms, he didn't plan on letting her go until he had fully assured himself that she was okay.

They parked a distance away and made their approach stealthily. At Ed's signal they burst into the warehouse. Sam spotted Dublin right away and made a beeline for him. He pushed him up against the wall and shoved his forearm against the other man's chest, his jaw rocking angrily. If he was any less of an officer, he wouldn't have any compunction about pressing his arm against the man's windpipe and cutting off his breathing until he agreed to give Sam the information he needed.

"Where are they?"

- FP - FP - FP -

"Where are we?"

Jules practically murmured in deference to the pounding in her head that seemed to be getting worse rather than better. Spike's excitement should be contagious, but she just couldn't muster the energy.

Her companion pointed out the window. "See that helicopter in the distance? The neon green one hovering there? I recognize that chopper; Magellan's Free Falls. Looks like he's about 2 miles west and about 4 miles north of here."

Jules shook her head, groaning at the increased pain. "What does that tell us?"

Spike just glanced over at her, concern warring with his excitement. "Seriously? You've never heard of Magellan's? He runs a skydiving program out of his helicopter. Talk about a free fall rush. Anyway, he always uses the same drop zone so using that information I think we're about five miles off Durkenshire. If we can make it to the road, it's traveled enough we'll be saved. I think it's worth the walk."

She frowned. "How do you know so much about it?"

"Lew and I did a jump on his last birthday."

"The two of you jumped out of a helicopter?" Jules continued, her tone betraying nothing.

Spike nodded. "Yeah, it's not like we didn't have chutes. It was perfectly safe."

"The two of you did a helo jump and didn't invite me along. I'm hurt."

He couldn't be sure if she was serious or joking. He shrugged. "I promise, when we get out of here and had a chance to heal up a little, I'll take you to Magellan's and pay for your jump. But first we've got to get out of here. What do you say? Up for a piggy back ride?"

Jules considered it. She could still hear Sam's voice in her head admonishing her not to leave the vehicle. Going out in their current state of undress screamed its foolishness, yet staying put didn't seem like the better option either. Everything about walking away from the security of the van, even knowing that staying could mean a slow death from the cold, seemed wrong. Spike seemed so sure though.

She raised her hands to her head, touching the painful lump that was growing on her temple. Then her hand slid slightly back and her eyes widened. She'd been putting off getting a hair cut the last couple of weeks just because she'd been so busy. The top and sides desperately needed the trim and she'd resorted to pinning back the longer strands that just didn't quite make it into the ponytail with a bobby pin. She removed it and held it out for Spike to see. "How would you like to lose the handcuffs?"

His eyes widened. "You know how to pick locks?"

She nodded. "Batman taught me."

Spike raised an eyebrow. Was she being delirious again? "Batman, huh? Did he show you around the bat cave as well?"

She rolled her eyes. "Not that Batman. My TO during my days at RCMP. We called him Batman because he raised bats on his off times. He told me in my rookie days that everyone should be able to pick locks, that you never knew when it would come in handy."

Spike shifted so that his bound hands were facing her. It wasn't long before she had the cuffs unlocked. He flexed his sore wrists and then turned back to her. "Definitely comes in handy but not a skill I ever learned."

She offered him the hair pin. "It's not that hard. I can teach you."

She talked him through the procedure and soon her own hands were free as well. She felt better about the situation now that they were both free. She glanced out the front window. Five miles would take them no more than a couple of hours. The exercise might also provide them with much needed heat. Perhaps it was worth it. She nodded. "Okay, let's get out of here then."


	9. Chapter 9

Author's Notes: Only a couple more chapters to go. I hope you are still enjoying it. Please let me know what you think.

Disclaimer: The show Flashpoint and its characters were created by Mark Ellis and Stephanie Morgenstern and belong to them and the networks that air the episodes. Since the show has ended, our only way of getting new Flashpoint is through fan fiction. This story is my attempt to help fill the void, and the only profit I make is the warm fuzzy feeling reviews give me. Anything that does not come directly from the show is my own creation and should not be used without my permission.

Out in the Cold

Chapter 9

"Where are our teammates?" Sam repeated, a hard edge creeping into his voice as Dublin just smirked back at him.

There was a buzz of activity behind him as the rest of his team rounded up the different members of the gang with the help of several Guns and Gangs detectives and other uniformed officers that had arrived to help with the bust. Sam ignored them; the only person he was focused on was the person who could tell him where Jules and Spike were.

"I don't have to tell you anything. That's my right. I'm exercising it."

Sam's fist clenched. He wanted to exercise his need to put his fist either through the wall or into the man's jaw, preferably the latter. Time could be running out; who knew what condition Jules and Spike were in? Sam's jaw clenched as tightly as his fist. Damn the possibility of police brutality charges if it meant getting Jules back. A hand gripped his shoulder reassuringly. Wordy was there, having arrived on orders from Detective Harris to help with the bust.

Making the choice to transfer from SRU to Guns and Gangs had been the hardest decision Wordy had ever had to make. Team One was his family just as much as Shelley and the girls were. Before his diagnosis, he couldn't imagine anything that would make him want to leave. He loved his job and he loved the people he got to work with on a daily basis. They had his back and he had theirs. In the immediate aftermath of learning he had Parkinson's, he'd wanted to think nothing had to change. Medication could control the symptoms and he didn't want to let his team - his family- down. It had taken him awhile to realize that because he loved the team so much, he had to leave. If something had happened, if his illness had caused someone on the team to get hurt or worse, he couldn't have lived with that guilt. So because he loved them, he'd stepped down. He'd never thought just weeks later, he'd be working alongside them once again trying to rescue two of his favorite people.

"Sam, let me have a crack at him." His voice was calm, the voice of reason and stability he'd always been. Wordy hadn't often gotten the opportunity to talk people down while Sam had been on the team but the times he had, it was that patient fatherly tone that Sam believed was what got through to people. Just like it was getting through to him now, calming him just as surely as the look on Jules's face earlier when she'd been threatened by the Dublin brother had centered him. He didn't release his hold on Dublin- he wasn't about to chance him getting away- but he nodded.

"Thomas, we've got you dead to rights on enough charges that you're going away for a good long time. The deaths of two officers would only make things worse for you. You've got to tell us where to find Constables Scarlatti and Callaghan not for their sake but for yours."

"What is this, good pig/bad pig? You want information, you've got to do something for me."

Sam could think of a few things he'd like to do for him, none of it good. It wasn't even just because Jules was in danger, although that was a strong motivation. Dublin was a cocky sonofabitch who needed to be knocked down a peg or two. When he was with the 51st, busting criminals like him, ones who were so smug about their own misdeeds, should have been satisfying but had left him with a bad taste in his mouth. Knowing that no matter how many arrests he made a day there would always be more to arrest the next day had been discouraging. He'd felt like he wasn't making a difference and that his good would never be good enough. So when his father had approached him about joining Special Forces, he'd given in without much protest. Later, after what had happened with Matt, he'd come back but had known being a regular beat cop wasn't what he wanted either. With SRU, he'd found his niche, here he could make a difference like he'd been wanting to do all his life. Even now though, dealing with scum like Dublin took him right back to those early days on the force and feeling like it would never be enough.

Wordy, however, seemed unflappable. "You know we don't negotiate. However, if you cooperate, we can make sure the prosecutor knows that. It would go better for you in the long run."

There was a glint that came into Dublin's eyes, a self-congratulatory gleam that Sam didn't like the looks of. His smirk became more pronounced. "Fine, you want cooperation, I'll cooperate. I'll tell you where to find them. Of course all you're going to find is their dead bodies."

Sam's heart sank and he shook his head. Jules wasn't dead. She couldn't be. She was holding such a large piece of his heart, surely he'd know if something truly horrible had happened to her. Dublin had to be lying. He just got her back in his life the way he wanted and needed her; he couldn't lose her again. He wouldn't lose her.

"Are you saying you killed them?" Wordy continued. Sam could hear the pinch in his friend's voice that said Wordy didn't want it to be true either.

Dublin shrugged. "I'm not confessing to anything if that's what you're asking. Do you want a location or not?"

"Where are they?" Sam repeated for a third time, the hostility in his voice obvious.

Dublin shrugged, the only movement Sam's hold on him really allowed him. "You know, maybe I shouldn't say anything more until I've talked to my attorney."

Almost as if he knew Sam had reached the end of his control, Wordy stepped in and twisted Dublin around so that his back was to them. The speed in which he had the man's hands cuffed behind him seemed contradictory of the disease that had necessitated Wordy's transfer out of SRU. "Fine, you want to talk to your attorney, we'll get you down to the station where you can have a nice long conversation with him. He can help you get your change of address cards filled out so you can get your mail once you're in a nice prison cell."

Wordy practically tossed the man toward a waiting uniformed officer. Sam shook his head. "Damnit, Wordy, he knows where Spike and Jules are."

Wordy nodded. "Yeah, and he wasn't going to tell us anything. He was having too much fun jerking our chains. You know that. Even if he'd given us a location, I bet you anything it wouldn't have been the correct one. He was just trying to push our buttons because the only chance he has is if we give his attorney ammunition to question the arrest. Come on, maybe one of the others is having better luck with one of the other gang members."

Sam nodded. He knew Wordy was right, had known what Dublin was doing even as he was doing it. Probably that was the only reason he hadn't given in to the urge to actually punch Dublin's lights out. As worried as he was, he was a cop first and foremost. He wouldn't cross the line no matter how tempted or justified it might be. He crossed over to where Sarge was questioning the man who wore the same face as the man he'd been questioning. The twin, the one who had held the gun to Jules's head and threatened to kill her, the man who would have killed her if Jules hadn't found a way to talk him down. What were the chances that they'd get anything more out of him than he had Thomas Dublin?

"I swear to you I don't know where they are. Thomas was taking care of them while Emily and I got the equipment out."

Sarge frowned. "What was their condition when you last saw them?" He'd gotten a report from Ashley before she'd been taken to the hospital but he wanted to hear what Ronnie Dublin had to say as well.

"They were alive," the man admitted but didn't elaborate. "Tommy wasn't planning on them staying that way, but I don't know what he did to them after he left. To be honest I didn't want to know. I didn't want to ask him because he might ask me about the kid and I didn't want to tell him that I hadn't really killed her like he told me to."

Sarge nodded. "You made a good choice letting Ashley live today. A very good choice, for her and for yourself. That'll make things go better for you. You can help yourself out even more if you help us find our people."

Ronnie shook his head. "I don't know where he was taking them. Honestly. He didn't say. Emily would know because she picked him up. She's not going to tell you though. She thinks she loves my brother but to be honest I think she's more scared of him than anything. I don't care what you say to her or offer her, she's not going to turn on him. She can't."

"We can protect her. She doesn't have to be scared of him." Sarge offered, feeling like they might finally be getting somewhere.

"She doesn't want you to protect her from him. She'll die before she does anything to cross him or make him mad. She wasn't much more than a kid herself when Tommy first brought her in. He's got her convinced he's the only one who really loves her and can protect her. Hell, despite everything he ever did to her, he's even got her father convinced that he was some type of savior to her. Nothing you say will change that."

Sam frowned. Stockholm Syndrome from the sound of it. He knew it could be countered and that for Emily it would have to be for her to truly get on with her life. However, he also knew it wasn't an easy process and that they didn't have the time it would take to counter anything Dublin had brainwashed her into believing. He couldn't stand there listening to person after person not telling him where Jules was. He had to do something productive or he'd never be able to keep his calm. He glanced at Sarge.

"I'm going to check the vehicles. Maybe one of them has GPS or something that we can use to figure out where Dublin took them."

Sarge nodded. "Good idea. Wordy, can you give him a hand?"

"Sure Boss." It wouldn't matter if months or even years passed with Wordy being off Team One, Parker would always be Boss to him.

The two men left the warehouse and made their way out to the cars that were parked just outside. Sam sat in the driver's side of the first one they came to while Wordy was in the passenger seat looking through the glove box. The veteran officer glanced over at Sam. He could see the worry barely contained in Sam's eyes. He knew and even understood Sam's protective nature. The idea that two friends were in danger had to be eating the younger man alive especially since they had so little to go on. "We're going to find them, Sam."

"Will it be in time though?" Sam couldn't believe he was voicing his worst fear to his former teammate but he couldn't hold it in anymore. Wordy had always been easy to talk to, probably because he had that easy going nonjudgmental personality. "For all we know, Dublin killed them before he ever left. Or maybe they're badly injured and dying and we're sitting here not getting anywhere."

Wordy checked the sides of the seats and held up a cell phone that had dropped between the seats. The pink case surrounding the device left little doubt in his mind who it belonged to. He held it so Sam could see it. "Maybe this will get us somewhere."

- FP - FP - FP -

Spike pulled on the mud boots that Jules had retrieved from beneath the seat. He glanced over at her. "Ready?"

She nodded, wincing once again at the pain the movement caused. "Yeah, we certainly don't want to be out there when the sun starts to set. As cold as it is now, the temperature will drop rapidly after dark."

Spike opened his door and twisted in the seat so his back was to Jules. "Okay, hop on."

She frowned. Letting Spike carry her seemed so wrong. The story had been told all her life that from the time she learned to walk, she'd refused to be carried anywhere. Apparently her stubborn, independent streak had started at a young age and had only gotten stronger as she grew older. "Are you sure?"

He glanced back at her, his normally jovial eyes looking as somber as they had in the days following Lew's death. "I'm sure I don't want to freeze to death sitting here waiting for help that may or may not get here in time. I'm sure I'm not leaving you alone with a possible concussion while I go for help alone. So yeah, I guess that means I'm sure. Look Jules, I know the idea of riding piggy back bugs you and if there were another pair of boots handy I'd say fine, let's walk out of here together. But there's not, so either one of us is going to get frostbitten toes in under ten minutes or one of us has to carry the other. Maybe it makes me sexist, and if so, please forgive me once we get out of this, but if someone is going to be carried, it's going to be you. So can we please go? Like you said, it's going to get colder when the sun sets and I don't want to be out there when it happens."

Everything in her wanted to protest but she couldn't argue with his logic. The only thing worse than riding out of there piggy back would be sitting around twiddling their thumbs while waiting for someone to show up and rescue them. Riding on his back might not be her first choice, but Spike was right, sitting around waiting on help was worse. She scooted over and wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms lightly around his neck. Once she was secure on his back, he stood.

"Ouch. Shit. Fuck."

His injured leg started to buckle beneath him and Jules scrambled back onto the seat, reaching out to catch him before he sprawled on the ground. She frowned. "Spike?"

Once he was sure he wouldn't fall, he pulled away from her grasp and hopped to the side, leaning against the cold exterior of the van. Tears of pain sprang to his eyes and he didn't want her to see them. He rested his head on his arm and took several deep breaths. Finally he answered her. "I'm okay."

"Bullshit. Be honest with me, is your ankle broken?"

He shook his head. "I don't think so. As much as it hurts, I think the pain would be worse if it were broken. I think it has just stiffen up from the cold and the swelling. Give me a minute and I'll be fine."

Jules rolled her eyes. "Yeah, cause your healing powers will kick in and you'll magically get better right? Dammit Spike, this is why I didn't want you to try to carry me. You shouldn't be walking on that ankle at all let alone carting about an extra hundred plus pounds."

He twisted his head so he was looking at her. "Be honest with me, are your ribs broken?"

"I don't think so, bruised mostly and maybe one or two cracked but not completely broken. I _know_ it would hurt worse if they were." Jules answered immediately, thinking he was giving in.

Instead he moved back to the doorway looking at her earnestly. "So it's okay for you to ignore your injuries and carry my 160 pound sorry ass five miles down the road. I, however, shouldn't think about carrying your much lighter 125 pound cute rear-end the same distance on a twisted ankle? Sorry, Jules, it ain't happening and I'm through arguing with you about it. Seriously Jules, your eyes are unequal and I can tell you are trying hard not to throw up for a third time. I might not be a doctor but I don't have to be to know you've got a concussion. So frankly, I'm not sure I'd trust you to navigate our way out here even if your ribs were hunky dory. I can push the pain aside for now. It just caught me by surprise when I put my weight on it. If it'll make you feel better, the first sturdy stick we come to, I'll pick it up to use as support. Okay? Please, if I can push aside the pain, don't you think you could push aside your stubbornness?"

She could hear the frustration in his voice. She felt guilty; this wasn't any easier for him than it was her. The situation was frustrating enough without him having to fight her every step of the way as well. So as much as she hated the idea of relying on someone else, she could, as he had asked, push aside her stubbornness for the good of them both. "Okay, let's do this. But before you try carrying me again, why don't you take a few steps to get used to the pain without my added weight."

He nodded and took her suggestion. It wouldn't be the first time he'd pushed away pain in order to finish a job. He glanced down at his hand though there wasn't even a scar there from the day of the requalification drills with Dr. Toth where he'd cut his hand on the broken piece of wood on the obstacle course. He'd put aside the pain until he'd completed the course because his job depended on it. Afterward he'd been so mad at Wordy, blaming him for wanting to increase his own time at the expense of his. He'd felt guilty about his words after hearing about Wordy's illness.

He saw a long slender tree limb lying just off the road and walked towards it. By the time he'd retrieved it and used it for support on his way back to the van, he was pretty sure he'd gotten used to the pain enough that he could handle the walk without dropping Jules onto the frozen ground. Jules offered no argument this time as she once more found her grip on his back.

They started down the road at a slow pace. It was much colder than it had been in the van, but they were both grateful that at least the wind wasn't making the cold even worse. Using the stick to help support his weight helped as well and pretty soon Spike forgot the pain completely. Or maybe it was that his ankle, like the rest of his body, had grown numb from the cold. The only pain he felt at all was the burn in his lungs every time he inhaled the freezing air.

The going wasn't exactly easy. Still, he soon settled into a rhythm and almost forgot about the desperate situation they were in as he concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. Even Jules's clinging to his back seemed like nothing unusual after about half a mile. It was almost like he was on automatic pilot and nothing else mattered but each step he took.

Step. Limp. Step. Limp. Step. Limp. Step. Limp. Step. Limp. Step. Limp.

Then suddenly he seemed lighter. He couldn't figure out why but he wouldn't complain as the walk suddenly became easier. Spike continued on for about twenty more paces before he finally realized why he felt lighter. Horrified, he turned around and looked back the way he'd come. Sure enough, Jules was lying on the frozen ground where she'd landed after slipping off his back.

He rushed back to her, and knelt beside her. To his added horror, her eyes were once more closed and she wasn't moving. He shook her shoulder but she didn't respond.

"Jules! Dammit, I let you talk me into walking away; the least you could do is stay awake for me."

Her eyes fluttered but didn't open all the way. Her lips were moving and he realized she was trying to say something. He leaned down so his ear was close to her mouth as he tried to hear.

"Sam…sorry…wasted…time…love…"

Spike closed his eyes. He'd wondered earlier from some of the delirious comments if she and Sam were back together. He hadn't noticed anything at work that would indicate they had broken the rules once again but her words... He stopped that line of thought. Was it really any of his business? If they hadn't been in this situation, if Jules wasn't injured and talking out of her head, would he even be wondering about her and Sam?

"Sam…cold…hold me." She continued to mumble. Spike frowned. He had to get her up off the frozen ground before her already precarious condition got even worse. He gathered her in his arms bridal style and pushed up with the stick. Carrying her this way and holding on to his makeshift walking stick was difficult but he was determined to get them both to safety.

Step. Limp. Step. Limp. Step. Limp. Step. Limp. Step. Limp. Step. Limp.

- FP - FP - FP -

"Turn here."

Sarge glanced over at Sam as he followed the younger man's directions. The cell phone Wordy had found in the car had, as suspected, turned out to be Emily's. As he had scrolled through the messages, he'd found one from Dublin that had come in after the gang had left the house with Jules and Spike in tow. It hadn't taken them but a second to realize that the string of numbers in the text were GPS coordinates, hopefully the coordinates of where he'd left Spike and Jules. Team one had left Dublin and his men in the hands of Wordy and the others from Guns and Gangs and raced to their vehicles, racing against time and fear to get to their teammates in time.

"Are we sure about this, Sam?" Sarge had to ask. He wanted to be on the right track; until he saw with his own eyes that Spike and Jules were safe, he wouldn't relax. He couldn't shake the idea that seemed wrong, however. The road they had turned off on could hardly be classified as a road. It was nothing more than a dirt path into the middle of nowhere. No chance that anyone had happened to accidentally came across Spike and Jules in order to help them. Not to mention they were so far out that if this didn't pan out, they would probably not get a second chance.

Sam shook his head. "No, but why else would he text coordinates to Emily? I pulled up the GPS on her phone; even though she took a roundabout path, she ended up at those coordinates. Why else would she be so far from anything unless this is where she was picking up Dublin? You heard the brother; Emily knew where he took them. This has to be it."

He didn't add that he could feel in his heart that they were close. Something deep inside him said that Jules was nearby and that she was okay. He had no basis for the feeling but he hoped it was true. Even if he couldn't show her right away how glad he was to see her, he needed to lay eyes on her and know that she was safe. Waiting to take her in his arms and hold her safely against him until all the fear he'd been feeling all day and that he was sure she'd been feeling as well melted away would be awful, but he could endure it so long as he knew she was safe. He just had to get to her.

Sam knew Greg was driving as quickly as possible on the uneven dirt road but it seemed like they were just creeping along. When he finally saw the panel van in the distance, he released the breath he'd unconsciously been holding. "There," he blurted out, pointing toward the vehicle even though he was sure Sarge had seen it. "That's one of the vans that left the house after we entered it."

Sarge pulled up behind it while Ed in the other SUV passed them and parked in front blocking the van in just in case. All four men exited and slowly approached the vehicle with their guns drawn. They were all hoping to find Jules and Spike unharmed but they couldn't be sure there wasn't a nasty surprise waiting for them. They had to be ready for whatever they might find.

Ed was stationed at the front of the van near the engine, his gun drawn on the windshield watching for any hidden danger. Sarge and Raf, similarly armed each approached the driver and passenger side door respectively while Sam came up on the rear doors. After a signal from Ed, the other three men threw open the doors. Sam frowned.

"It's empty. They aren't here. Where the hell are they?"


	10. Chapter 10

Author's Notes: We're getting closer and closer to the end here. I hope you enjoy this chapter and don't throw too many tomatoes at me at the end of it. Thanks for letting me know what you think.

Disclaimer: The show Flashpoint and its characters were created by Mark Ellis and Stephanie Morgenstern and belong to them and the networks who air the episodes. Since the show has ended, our only way of getting new Flashpoint is through fan fiction. This story is my attempt to help fill the void, and the only profit I make is the warm fuzzy feeling reviews give me. Anything that does not come directly from the show is my own creation and should not be used without my permission.

Out in the Cold

Chapter 10

Spike wasn't cold. He'd passed cold while still sitting in the van trying to figure out a way for him and Jules to survive. He'd passed freezing not long after he'd set out for the walk. He wasn't quite sure how to describe his level of discomfort right now- not that he had anyone he could try to explain it to if he could. Jules was still mostly unconscious in his arms and wouldn't be aware if he tried to talk to her.

He glanced down at his friend, cradled protectively in his arms. She'd been babbling incoherently every since she'd slipped off his back. He'd given up trying to decipher everything she was saying. Occasionally he made out a few words, usually _Sam _and several times _love_ and a couple of times he thought he heard her apologizing but never enough to get the full story. He'd given up trying to figure out what was going on between his two co-workers. Instead, he allowed her mutterings to assure him that she hadn't fully lapsed into an unconscious state that could mean sure death.

He had no idea how far he'd walked so far. It seemed like hours had passed since they had left the van but if it had really been that long, surely he would have come across the highway by now. The dirt road stretched out before him like an unending road. It reminded him of those dreams he'd had growing up of trying to trying to reach something and his destination never seemed to get closer. Was the highway going to be just another unattainable goal?

His chest hurt, his lungs protesting against the super cold air he was breathing in hungrily at the exertion from walking. The pain in his ankle that had numbed when he first started walking had returned. It was probably a good thing that Jules was so out of it. If she was aware enough to realize how much he was hurting, how he was having to bite back a scream of agonizing pain with each step he took, she'd renew her protests about him carrying her with a vengeance. He wasn't sure he had the energy to fight her anymore.

He was determined to keep going though, despite the cold, despite the pain, despite his worry, despite the fact that it didn't seem like he was getting anywhere. Either he would get the two of them to safety or he would die trying. There was no other option for him.

He heard a car slowly approaching him from behind. His heart skipped a beat as he feared Dublin had returned to make sure his captives had died. He'd fight the man with everything left in him but he knew it wasn't much. He glanced back and sank to his bare knees in relief at the sight of the familiar black SUV with its flashing lights. Help had arrived at last.

"Jules, it's okay. The team found us. We're safe." He mumbled to the mostly unconscious woman in his arms.

Doors slammed behind him and footsteps pounded closer. Sam knelt in front of him spreading a thick blanket on the frozen ground. "Spike, lay Jules down so I can check her."

Spike nodded and gently eased Jules down onto the blanket. "She's been pretty out of it. I'm sorry; I tried to keep her awake but she's so cold and she's got a head wound. There was nothing I could do."

Sam ignored him as he concentrated on Jules. A familiar hand griped Spike's shoulder; he looked up to see Sarge kneeling beside him. "You've done good, Spike. I'm proud of you. Let's let Sam take care of Jules. You think you can walk just a little further?"

He pointed a little further down the path to where a second SUV was approaching. Spike didn't want to take another step but he wasn't about to admit that to his boss for anything. He pushed up on his walking stick and leaned against Sarge as the older man led him toward the newly arrived SUV.

After a couple of steps, something told him that leaving Jules even in Sam's capable hands was a bad idea. He stopped and started to turn around to check on her. He should at least suggest that Sam get Jules up off the ground while he checked her. Even with the blanket beneath her protecting her, it had to be cold against her bare skin. Sarge's arm around his shoulder became more insistent, preventing him from turning back.

"She's going to be fine. You trust Sam don't you? Come on, Buddy, let's get you in the vehicle where the heat's going. You want to get warm right? Want to get off that ankle? Just keep walking and you'll be safe."

He nodded. He trusted his team. He could listen to what Sarge said. Ignoring the instinct that was screaming at him that he needed to make sure Jules was okay, he kept walking toward the SUV. Again it seemed like his destination kept moving further and further away. Why had they parked so far back? Why didn't they move closer so he didn't have to walk so far?

He asked Sarge as much and the older man shrugged. "We've got to keep a good perimeter in case Dublin returns. Not much further. Come on Spike. You can do it."

Spike nodded. The answer didn't make sense but he couldn't question the boss. He stumbled over a rock in the road and went down heavily on his knee. He felt like a baby crying out in pain but the outburst left his mouth before he could stop it. Sarge's grip on his shoulder tightened.

"Come on Spike, you have to get up and keep walking. You don't want to die out here do you?"

He couldn't go on. Spike hated to admit it but he was spent. He had nothing left to give. Jules was safe; he was safe; why should he have to keep going? He wasn't going to die, not with the team there. They wouldn't allow it. "I can't. Please, if Dublin's out there, he's not going to make a move with all of you here. Just please, bring the truck closer. I don't think I can walk anymore."

Suddenly someone else was at his other side, a arm going around him supportively pushing him back up to his feet. "Come on Spike, not much farther. I'm right here with you, Buddy. We'll do it together."

Spike nodded. Yeah, he could do it with Lew's help. They always did everything together. He allowed his friend to help support his weight as he concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. "'Bout damn time you got here, Lew. What have you been doing all this time?"

Lew laughed. Spike grinned in spite of the pain. It had been so long since he had heard Lew laugh like that. He'd missed it. Lew continued. "You know how it goes. They keep me locked away in the command truck too much. Don't let me out to have fun."

Spike put too much weight on his bad ankle and groaned when he really wanted to laugh. Lew always complained about getting stuck in the truck or on less lethal. Just once, he'd always said, he wanted to be the one in the Sierra spot even if he wasn't a sniper like Ed, Jules, and Sam. He wanted to be the hero. Then when he got the chance to be that hero, he'd paid the ultimate price. It hadn't seemed fair.

Spike stopped and looked to the side where Lew was standing. Only Lew couldn't be standing there. Lew was dead. Spike blinked a few times and suddenly he was alone on the road. There was no Lew on one side of him and no Sarge on the other. There was no SUV in front of him and when he turned to look back where he came from there was no SUV behind him. He started to breathe hard.

Jules was once more lying on the cold ground. Only this time it was his fault she was there, no blanket to protect her and no Sam taking care of her. The team wasn't there. They'd never been there. It had all been a hallucination, no different from Jules's purple unicorn and poisoned poppy field earlier. Only, unlike her delusions, his had endangered Jules.

Pain forgotten, cold forgotten, Spike took off at as much of a run as he could manage right then. Reaching Jules's side, he gently scooped her up in his arms once more.

"Jules! Come on, talk to me. Please. Don't let me have screwed things up completely. Let me know you are okay."

She didn't answer him, not even to mumble incoherently. Spike straightened back up, cradling her to him. How could he have been so stupid? He should have known as soon as he saw Lew that it couldn't have been real. Why hadn't he listened to his gut instinct that it was wrong to leave her? If she died because he hadn't been strong enough….

She moaned in his arms. Spike had never heard a more welcomed sound in his whole life. She was still alive. He just had to keep her that way until he reached help. He'd be damned if he allowed another hallucination to get the better of him.

"Jules, it's Spike. You're safe. I've got you again and I'm going to get you to safety. I promise you I'll find us some warmth as soon as possible. Just please hang on for me. You do that; you hear me? You hang on and I'll hang on. I'm not putting you down again until I know you are safe. That's my promise to you, okay? You just stay with me. That's your promise."

Once again he started off toward the highway that didn't seem to be getting any closer.

- FP - FP - FP -

"Give me a moment with him." Wordy demanded of the uniformed officer watching Dublin in the back of the squad car. There was no trace of the normally easy-going person most people recognized as the former SRU officer turned detective. The officer nodded and stepped away.

Wordy placed both hands on the roof of car and leaned down. "What did you do to them?"

Dublin laughed, still full of all the smug self assurance he'd displayed with Sam earlier. "Are we back to that? I told you I'd tell you what you wanted to know so long as you did something for me. I'm thinking my immediate and unconditional release. You let me go and I'll tell you whatever you want to know. How about it? What are they worth to you?"

Wordy's eyes narrowed. "I'm not about to let you go anywhere but a holding cell. You must have misheard me. I didn't ask where they were; I asked what you did to them. We know where you took them. We found the GPS coordinates you sent Emily." Just so there was no mistake, he rattled off the numbers from memory.

Almost immediately all of the swagger seemed to drain out of Dublin. Wordy even thought he could see a hint of fear in the man's eyes. He knew he had hit a nerve. "Yeah, that's right. The SRU team responsible for taking you down today, the team whose members you took captive, are on their way there right now. Now, you know what they are going to find. Last chance to come clean and have a hope of this not going much worse on you. If you did something to them…"

"They were fine when I left them. I didn't do squat to the two little piggies. Left them handcuffed in the back of the van. I swear to you that's all I did. If something else happened after I left them, that's not my fault."

Wordy's jaw rocked. "Let me get this straight, you left two people, whom you stripped of practically all their clothes, handcuffed in the middle of fucking nowhere in the middle of winter and it's not your fault if they freeze to death. You sick sonofabitch. I seriously hope when you land in jail, someone throws away a key and forgets you ever existed."

Before he could say anything more, he turned on his heel and stormed away leaving Dublin once more for the officer to look after. He walked past all the other units and to his car. Once he was in the vehicle with the door closed to all the noise and commotion going on, Wordy settled into his seat and reached for his phone. For more years than he could count, Wordy had had Sarge's cell phone number on his speed dial; he might have transferred out of SRU and into Guns and Gangs but the first number after Shelley's was still Greg Parker's. Even having new bosses with numbers he had to remember hadn't changed that.

"_Parker."_

"Boss, it's Wordy. Jules and Spike should have been in the van. Dublin swears he left them in the back of the van handcuffed and alive."

"_You sure he wasn't yanking your chain?"_

This wasn't Sarge questioning his ability to do his job but him being thorough the way any good leader would be. Wordy understood and wouldn't take offense. "Positive. I thought he was going to wet his pants when I told him about the GPS coordinates. He didn't say it but I could tell he was expecting you to get there and find them either dead or almost dead from hypothermia but he expected you to find them."

"_Damn."_

Wordy understood his stress. His friend and former boss would have been upset about anyone missing but the fact that it was Jules and Spike just made the worry all the more real. He wished he'd been able to give the team something more. He felt he owed it to them for always being there for him and to prove he could still be there for them even if wasn't on the team anymore. "Sorry, Boss, I wish I had better news for you."

"_Nah, Wordy, you did great. At least we know we're in the right vicinity. I'll keep you posted."_

Wordy ended the call and immediately hit the speed dial that held the spot just above Greg's. It rang a couple of times before the voice he needed to hear answered with a simple hello. "Hey Shel, it's me. Just wanted to hear your voice a moment."

- FP - FP - FP -

After seeing the van was empty, Sam, Raf and Ed had fanned out into the surrounding woods to look for any sign of their missing friends. While the road itself had been pretty clear of snow, the rest of the area still had a nice blanket of white covering the ground. As Sam had entered his assigned area of the woods, he'd known almost immediately that it was a futile search. After all, the snow hadn't been disturbed by anything that would have suggested human activity. Still, he understood the need to be thorough and he appreciated having something to do besides worry.

She should have been there. He hadn't wanted to admit even to himself how afraid he'd been that they would reach the coordinates and find that Jules and Spike had been killed or seriously injured. Despite the feeling deep in his heart that she was okay, he'd been almost preparing himself for the worst just in case. He'd never given thought to what he would do if she hadn't been there.

Where was she? Was she okay? He knew she could take care of herself. For a moment he remembered a statement he'd made to the SIU investigator after the big museum shooting the year before. He'd been telling her about his sister and why he'd become a cop. _Some people are helpless and need to be protected. _ He believed that with his whole heart and had even believed it was true about the women he dated. Then he'd met Jules. She was neither helpless or in need of protection. Even when she'd been shot and had to lean on him just to make it around the halls of the hospital, she'd been far from helpless. Finding someone who loved him and that he could love without always feeling like he had to protect her had been almost intoxicating and had drawn him to her like a moth to a flame.

He truly believed it was one of the reasons why he loved her as much as he did. He also knew it was the source of his biggest frustration when it came to her. She didn't know limits, not when they applied to her. No matter how cold or injured she was, she wouldn't give up. He kept reminding himself of that as he searched his area. Wherever she was, she would be fighting to stay alive and come back to him safely.

Once he had completed his reconnaissance, he rejoined the rest of his team at the van. Sarge looked grim. "I talked to Wordy. He's convinced that Dublin is telling the truth when he says he left Jules and Spike bound in the van alive."

Sam had lost track of the number of times he'd felt a momentary relief only to have the fear come straight back. Would this be the same way? He trusted Wordy's judgment but he wasn't as sure he trusted Dublin to tell the truth.

Ed picked up one of the pairs of handcuffs they'd found discarded on the passenger seat. "They obviously aren't cuffed right now. The question is, what happened after Dublin left?"

Raf leaned against the side of the van. "You think someone came along and freed them?"

Sam shook his head. "If someone else was involved, we would have heard from either Jules or Spike by now."

"Not if they were unconscious when they were found." Raf argued. "If they were out of uniform and unconscious, no one would have realized they were police officers. They might have just taken them to the hospital as a John and Jane Doe."

Sam resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Right, like some random stranger is going to come down this little dirt road, see an abandoned van, find a couple of people almost naked and handcuffed, have the ability to undo the cuffs, take them to the hospital, but completely forget to call the cops."

He might have resisted the eye roll but the exasperation was clear in his voice. Raf bristled. "I suppose you have a better explanation."

Before Sam could answer or the two men could escalate into a full fledged argument, Sarge intervened. "Can it, both of you. Sam, I agree that it's probably a long shot but Raf could be right. I'll get Winnie to check with the local hospitals for any John and Jane Does that match their descriptions. In the meantime, what are our other options?"

"Jules could have picked the lock." Sam offered, and then added, "We spend a lot of time together on patrol. She told me once that she learned how to pick locks from her training officer."

He didn't add that the conversation hadn't happened in the patrol car but late one night as they'd snuggled in bed together sharing odd facts about themselves. The look she'd given him afterward when he'd playfully suggested giving her the opportunity to demonstrate that little skill had been priceless. He'd been joking; handcuffs were a part of his job, not his lovemaking. He'd expected her to get indignant at him about it and tell him not a chance in hell, but he hadn't anticipated her turning the tables on him and showing him exactly why it was better that she had her hands free when they made love.

Ed nodded. "Yeah, Jules is a regular Houdini. If she had something to use as a tool, she could definitely pick the lock if her hands were in front of her, or at the very least free Spike. So let's assume for the sake of argument that she was able to get them free of the cuffs; where did they go? They both would know the safest thing would be to stay put."

Sam snorted. "This is Jules we're talking about, right? Do you really see her sitting around waiting on help to arrive? 'Cause I see her sooner signing up for a dress making class. It'd be one thing if this was a well-traveled road and they knew help was around the corner or that we had a way of tracking them. As far as they knew though, even trusting we were doing everything we could to find them, they were completely on their own. I see them trying to get to safety."

Now it was Raf's turn to look skeptical. "Walking down an unknown road to an unknown destination wearing next to nothing? I know I'm new here but that just sounds crazy. That's asking for severe hypothermia."

"So would sitting in that van if no help arrived. I agree with Sam. If Spike and Jules felt they had more of a chance of surviving if they tried walking out of here, that's what they'd do even if it was dangerous." Ed inserted. He understood Raf's point, knew the team's newest member was just trying to find his place, but in this case not knowing the people involved as well as the rest of them worked against him.

"And we're wasting time standing around talking about it when we should be looking for them." Sam insisted, ready to be doing something productive again.

Sarge reached out and put a reassuring hand on the younger man's shoulder. They hadn't seen Sam's brasher side in a while but then no one in the team had been in danger lately. "We're going to find them. We still have to do this systematically. If we go off willy-nilly we run the risk of missing something. I think it's safe to assume they would stay on the road, more of a chance of being seen and more of a chance of being led to somewhere. Plus there was no sign of footsteps indicating they took a wood path."

Ed nodded. "We didn't see them as we were coming in so I think it's safe to assume they didn't head out the way we came. That leaves us two paths, straight ahead or that dirt road that cuts up the hill."

Raf once more interjected. "According to what Ashley said, they were both roughed up some at the house, so they could have injuries. Wouldn't it make sense that they would take the easier path?"

Sam had retrieved the laptop out of the SUV and pulled up the maps of the area. His eyes scanned the possible routes. "Depends on whether Spike recognized the area." Sometimes he wondered if Spike had every map of the area completely memorized. "Durkenshire is about five miles down the straight path but the hill road cuts that distance almost in half."

"We'll split up then. Ed, you and Raf take the hill and Sam and I will continue on this road. Regardless of their other injuries, we know when we find them, they'll be suffering from hypothermia. Have blankets ready and keep in constant contact."

Ed nodded as he and Raf took off toward their SUV. Moments later the two SUVs were heading in separate directions ready to find their people. Sam's heart was hammering in his chest as once more he was sure it would only be minutes before Jules was found. The same litany kept repeating in his head. _Hang on Jules; we're coming._

For the first two and half miles, there was no sign of either Spike or Jules. Sam was starting to lose hope once again but he continued to aim the binoculars out the windshield looking for them. When he first saw the movement about half a mile ahead, he thought it was wishful thinking. Then the image got a little closer in the glasses.

"I see them."

Sarge didn't reply but he gunned the engine a little more, just as much in a hurry to get to them as Sam was. Soon, Sam didn't have to use the binoculars to see Spike walking away from them. His heart clenched in fear as he realized the other man was carrying Jules. She wouldn't have consented to be carried unless she had no other choice. He flipped the siren on and off a couple of times to get Spike's attention and turned on the loudspeaker.

"Spike, we're here, Buddy. We found you."

They could see Spike visibly stiffen at the pronouncement but he didn't stop walking. If anything, he started walking just a little faster. Sarge was now right behind him, the SUV now at a slow crawl, but Spike still wasn't stopping. Sam slipped out of the vehicle and ran toward the man, gripping his shoulder. "Spike, didn't you hear me? It's okay. Here, let me take Jules, and we'll get the two of you to the hospital."

Spike shrugged off Sam's hand and kept walking, leaning heavily on the stick he was gripping, almost as if he hadn't heard him. Confused and worried, Sam stepped in front of him, blocking the path. "Spike? What's wrong?"

The demolitions expert looked at him, his expression looking angry rather than relieved. "I'm not listening to you any more. Get out of my way and leave us the hell alone."

Sam shook his head, not understanding why Spike seemed so hostile. He reached out to take Jules from him. "Spike, it's okay. You're safe now. Let me help you."

Before he could even touch Jules, let along get enough of a hold on her to take Spike's burden from him, Spike twisted out of the way and swung the stick he was holding right at Sam. Not expecting to be attacked by his friend, Sam never saw the stick coming until it connected solidly with his ribs. The blow stung but wasn't hard enough to do any real damage but it gave Spike enough time to shift most of Jules's weight to his shoulder so he could prepare for another strike with his stick.

"I don't believe in you and I'm not letting you stop me. Get the hell out of my way before I knock your nonexistent head off your nonexistent shoulders."


	11. Chapter 11

Author's Notes: So sorry for the delay. Real life thinks it's more important than my writing. Silly life. This chapter started taking on a life of its own once I really got started on it. I hope you enjoy it. Probably one more chapter after this one. Two if it takes on a life like this one did.

Disclaimer: The show Flashpoint and its characters were created by Mark Ellis and Stephanie Morgenstern and belong to them and the networks who air the episodes. Since the show has ended, our only way of getting new Flashpoint is through fan fiction. This story is my attempt to help fill the void, and the only profit I make is the warm fuzzy feeling reviews give me. Anything that does not come directly from the show is my own creation and should not be used without my permission.

Out in the Cold

Chapter 11

"What the hell? Spike?"

Trying to block out the fake Sam's protests, Spike shook his head. He couldn't believe it. He wasn't going to fall for his mind's tricks a second time. He wasn't going to believe that Sam was really here this time. The crunch of tires behind him wasn't real. His body was just cold and tired and was trying to fool him so he would let down his guard. Well, it wasn't going to work. He wasn't going to let Jules down again, figuratively or literally.

"Spike, come on Buddy. You're hurt. Let me take Jules, and we'll get you both to the hospital."

Spike gripped his stick tightly and blinked several times, trying to dispel the images trying to fool him. When he reopened his eyes, Sam was still standing there. He seemed so real, so concerned, but Spike wasn't about to be fooled. Giving in would mean certain death for Jules and mostly likely death for himself as well. Neither was a possibility he could live with and definitely didn't want to die for.

Once again the Sam in front of him reached to take Jules away from him. He swung the stick again but this time the image seemed to expect it. Imagined Sam reached out with one hand and grabbed the stick as Spike swung it and jerked it out of the other man's hands before tossing it to the side.

Spike stared at him dumbly. How the hell did a hallucination manage that move? As he stared in confusion, the figure once more reached for the woman Spike had been carrying and protecting. This time, he had no way to stop the hallucination from taking her from him. At the sudden loss, Spike went wild, fighting to get her back. He couldn't let anything happen to her; she would fight just as hard if not harder if he were the one in trouble.

Something strong and solid wrapped around his chest, pinning his arms to his side. A reassuring voice spoke into his ear, telling him to calm down and relax. Calm down? Relax? What the hell? His body wasn't allowing him to fight back but he began to yell, protesting to God and everyone that it wasn't fair and that he wasn't going down without a fight.

Sam disappeared and Spike lost sight of Jules in the process. He renewed his attempts to move but he couldn't break free of whatever was holding him. He doubled over as much as was possible given his sudden immobilization, his body wracked with sobs of failure and anger. That same soothing, familiar voices once more offered reassurances that he didn't want to listen to.

"Spike, Buddy, it's over. You're okay. Jules is okay. We got you, Buddy." Sarge wasn't sure if his words were even getting through to the younger man but he felt like he had to keep trying. When he'd gotten out of the SUV in time to see Spike hit Sam the first time with the stick, he'd been surprised and even a little alarmed. When he heard Spike threaten to hurt Sam's "nonexistent" body parts, he'd realized that Spike must be thinking he was having delusions.

When Sam had finally taken Jules from him and rushed her back to the warm safety of the SUV, all Sarge could do was hold on to Spike and hope that he could convince him that everything was really okay. Given the heart wrenching sobs coming from the demolitions expert, he wasn't sure how successful he'd been. The only other time he'd ever heard Spike sound this devastated had been the day Lew had been killed.

Ed and Raf pulled up from the opposite direction, having circled around from the direction they had taken. Ed got out, running toward them with a thick blanket in his hands. As he wrapped it around his friend, he looked toward Sarge, his eyebrow raised in question.

"He doesn't think we're really here. Sam has Jules in our SUV; he's probably going to need the space to check her out and work on warming her up. How about taking Spike to your SUV and trying to do the same."

Ed nodded. It was a plan that made sense. "We waiting for an ambulance?"

Sarge shook his head. "No time. Jules looked like she was pretty well unconscious and Spike's in pretty bad shape himself. We can get them to the ER quicker if we take them ourselves."

"Copy that." Ed gripped Spike's shoulder's reassuringly. "Spike, Buddy, it's Ed. Come on, we're going to get you some place warm and then get you to the hospital. Lean on me so you don't put any more weight on that ankle. Looks pretty painful there."

Ed very rarely had to the opportunity to talk down a subject; as a sniper, his skills were better used in Sierra position. At that moment though, Greg was reminded that he had the ability to be a great negotiator as well. He wondered if Izzy's arrival and becoming a father of a daughter had softened some of the man's edges some. Regardless, it looked like Ed was starting to get to Spike where he had failed. Spike's head came up, his eyes pleading with Ed.

"Ed? Really you?"

Ed nodded. "Yeah, Spike, it's really me. We're all here and we're going to take care of you."

The younger man looked around, frantically searching for something. "Jules? Where?"

"Sam has her. He's checking her out, trying to get her warmed up. Just like I want to do for you. I'm going to get Raf to pull up really close so you don't have to walk. Okay? Just hang on to me a minute more and we'll get you warm."

The SUV pulled up right beside them and Ed opened the back door. He helped Spike inside and closed the door behind him. Greg looked from one SUV to the other before keying his microphone. "Winnie, put in a call to St. Simon's emergency department. Let them know to expect two victims of possibly extreme hypothermia as well as other injuries. ETA of about twenty minutes."

"_Copy that, Boss."_

With Winnie's acknowledgment in his ears, Greg returned to his SUV. Once he was settled in the driver's seat, he turned to look back to where Sam was checking on Jules. "How is she, Sam?"

"Her breathing is pretty shallow and I'm having trouble finding a pulse." Sam sounded in control but there was a hint of panic just below the surface. It had been scary enough just finding her unresponsive but he was growing more concerned with each passing second. They had found them, but were they too late?

"Hypothermia will do that though," Greg reminded him as he eased past the other SUV so it would have room to turn around and follow them. "Slows down the metabolism almost to the point of not being detectable. We have to trust that she's going to be okay. The ER is expecting us and we'll get her and Spike there as quickly as we can. Is she responsive at all?"

They all had basic first aid, had to in their line of work where sometimes they might be the first and best chance someone in medical distress had of surviving. Sam probably had a little more training than the rest of his team given his military background. However there was a reason why doctors didn't treat their own family members and why he probably shouldn't be treating the woman he loved. He was too close and too worried to think objectively and clearly. But at the same time, he couldn't trust her well-being to anyone else.

He'd tried talking to her from the moment he'd gotten her in his arms, making sure that his radio wasn't transmitting. For a man who didn't need to beg for anything, he'd quickly found himself pleading desperately with her to open her eyes and acknowledge him. Instead she'd remained slack in his arms.

"Her automatic reflexes are working but nothing else. I think she's got a concussion on top of the hypothermia. There's a small gash on her temple as well as a pretty nasty knot." Definitely worse than what he'd noticed in those moments when Ronnie Dublin had held her at gunpoint in front of the house. He lifted one of her eyelids and shined a pen light directly into her eye. Then he repeated the move with the other eye. "Pupils are equal and reactive to light, so that's good. Her skin is just so cold though."

He wasn't surprised that at his last observation, Sarge turned the heat up even more. It didn't matter if the two men got too warm so long as they did everything they could to warm Jules. From the moment that Sam had gotten her in the vehicle, he'd removed his jacket and slipped it on her, as much for her modesty as for her warmth. Then he'd wrapped her in three of the blankets he'd retrieved from the emergency kit when they had first set out looking for their friends. He'd barely taken the time to note the bruises around her ribs, knowing it was more important right then to get her warm than worry about minor injuries.

His fingers brushed against the wound on her temple. Jules whimpered and her eyelids fluttered. Sam held his breath, sorry he'd caused her pain but hopeful she was waking up. She didn't, but her lips were moving slightly. Realizing she was saying something, he leaned close, putting his ear as close to her as he could. He couldn't make out much of what she was saying but he though he caught his name and the word _sorry_ but he couldn't be sure. He frowned, what could she possibly have to be sorry about? He was the one who was sorry. Sorry that he hadn't been able to prevent her from being hurt; sorry that he hadn't found her sooner; sorry that he couldn't do more for her now; sorry that he couldn't show her exactly how grateful he was that she was now safe.

"What about you Sam? Are you okay? Looked like Spike caught you pretty good with that stick." Greg glanced up to the rearview mirror.

He couldn't very well admit that he wasn't going to be okay until he knew for sure Jules was okay. He owed it to her and to himself not to give their relationship away. He touched his side where the stick had caught him. The area was a little tender but nothing he couldn't handle. "I'm fine. Apparently Kevlar is good for more than just stopping bullets. What about Spike? Is he okay? I had to stop him but I didn't want to hurt him. I'm not sure what he was seeing but it was obvious it wasn't me."

Greg sighed. Seeing Spike break down that way hadn't been easy; not being able to do anything to really reassure him and break through whatever delusion was keeping him from realizing help had arrived had been even worse. "You didn't hurt him. I think Ed was able to get through to him or at least was having more success than I was. Spike wouldn't have knowingly hurt you either; you know that. He was simply doing what he though he had to do to protect Jules."

Sam glanced back down at the unconscious woman lying on the seat beside him. She meant the world to him whether he could express it to his co-workers or not. Yes, it had been frustrating in the moment to want to take her in the safety of his arms and being denied the ability as Spike fought him off. At the same time, how could he fault Spike for doing everything he possibly could to protect her when she couldn't protect herself? "They've been through so much today. We don't even know the whole story. As much as I wish it hadn't happened, I'm glad they were there to help each other through it."

It was true. If he couldn't have been there to have her back, he couldn't have asked for a better stand in. Making sure his body was shielding his actions in case Sarge looked back, Sam reached out and tenderly traced the outline of her jaw with his thumb. Again she whimpered slightly but this time it didn't seem like from pain. There was so much he wanted - no, that he needed - to say to her. Yet, he had to remain silent, had to keep those private thoughts to himself until he could be sure only Jules would hear them.

It seemed to take forever to reach the hospital but finally Sarge was pulling up in front of the Emergency Department with Raf and Ed right behind. Winnie had not only alerted the ER department that they were coming, she had apparently put them on high alert because as soon as the SUVs stopped, a medical team converged on each vehicle and quickly bundled Jules and Spike onto stretchers and wheeled them away from the team. Sam didn't want to let Jules out of his sight again but he knew he had to in order for the doctors to treat her. Instead, he followed Sarge, Ed, and Raf to the waiting room as if he was just another concerned colleague.

As Sam slumped down into one of the hard plastic chairs the hospital had in the waiting room, he felt a sense of déjà vu settle over him. It was irrational, he knew. Sure it had been in similar seats on a surgical floor when the team had gathered in time for Ed to finally be wheeled into surgery after he'd been shot. That had been different though. Sure, he'd been concerned that Ed had delayed surgery so long in order to be there for the birth of Izzy that he would run the risk of permanent nerve damage or loss of motor function, but Ed was Ed. A teammate, a friend, certainly someone he was concerned about, but not someone whose very being and safety mattered more than Sam's own. In short, Ed was not Jules.

Sam thought back to when Jules had been shot by the sniper. That time he'd missed out on the waiting room vigil. He'd had to worry separately from the team while being grilled by SIU over the fatal take down of the man who had put her in the hospital. By the time he'd made it to the hospital that time, her surgery had been over and he'd been able to go directly to her side.

Waiting wasn't his strongest quality. Even in a Sierra position where he might have to stand by for maybe even hours at a time, he used the wait time to run scenarios in his head so he was prepared for every contingency. Waiting without something practical to fill his mind gave him too much time to think. Scenarios were still running through his head but currently only worst case ones.

What if she didn't survive? What if she had frostbite that couldn't be treated and she lost sensation in her fingers or toes - or worse, had to have them amputated? He'd tried to check for frostbite before he bundled her up but he knew his own medical knowledge was severely limited. He would love her no matter what happened but he knew how devastated such a loss would leave Jules.

The wait seemed to stretch out to impossible lengths of time. He heard Sarge call Wordy to give their former teammate an update. Ed left and returned with coffee for everyone - hospital vending machine coffee not Timmys. It didn't matter to Sam. He drank it not because he wanted it but because everyone else was. After a few sips, he set the cup aside; every swallow of the almost scalding liquid felt like a stab to the back to Jules. He'd been relatively warm all day while she'd been freezing. He knew she wouldn't want him feeling guilty that way but until he could be alone with her so she could chew him out for it, he couldn't help himself.

After thirty minutes stretched more into an hour without any word, Sarge cleared his throat. "Technically, we are off call right now. Team Six was called in to cover us. If any of you want to leave, it's okay. I'll call as soon as there is word."

No one took him up on his offer, not even Raf who was so new to the team he barely knew anything about their injured colleagues. Sarge wasn't surprised and he didn't try to force the issue. Ed got up, went to the nurse's desk to try to find out something, but returned a few minutes later without any new information. Raf stood and walked around the small area stretching his legs and giving him something to do. Sarge picked up a magazine and began flipping through it. Sam knew he wasn't really reading it and might have even joked about the boss reading Cosmopolitan if the situation had been different.

At long last a doctor in a white coat approached them and sat down on the edge of a coffee table. "Normally I have to call the family by name to locate them in here but your uniforms pretty much made it obvious who you were here for. I'm Dr. Abrams and I've been treating Constables Callaghan and Scarlatti. I'm sorry I didn't get out here to update you earlier but I knew you would want the full story."

"And you have the full story now?" Sarge probed. As usual his tone was calm and even, not betraying the intense worry they all knew he had.

The doctor nodded. "I think so, at least as full a story as we're going to get right away. Both of your friends will make a full recovery. I know that's your biggest concern. For both, hypothermia is the biggest issue. Constable Scarlatti's core temp was 30 degrees upon arrival and Constable Callaghan's was lower at 27.5. We've got them both on heated IV fluids trying to warm them up."

"What about actively warming their blood?" Sam interjected. He knew that was sometimes necessary with hypothermia patients.

The doctor shook his head. "We only like to do that if all other measures fail. For now this seems to be working. Constable Scarlatti's core temp is already up two degrees and Constable Callaghan is up one. Besides the IV fluids, I also put them on humidified warm oxygen. No doubt they breathed in super cool air today and that's not good for the lungs. Hopefully the warm O2 will help prevent pneumonia from setting in."

The doctor allowed that to sink in. "Surprisingly given the exposure to the cold, I saw no signs of frostbite but we will keep an eye on their extremities throughout the night to be sure we didn't miss anything."

"Can we see them?" Raf asked. Sam was glad he did because the question was on his lips as well.

"Soon," the doctor answered. "We are moving them upstairs to a room now. I requested that they share a room, figured it would be easier for you to visit if you didn't have to split the time. While the hypothermia was and is our major concern, it wasn't the only problem. Constable Scarlatti has a severe sprain to his right ankle. X-rays ruled out any fractures but he'll have to stay off it for several days to recover. The rest of his injuries are minor bruising."

"And Jules?" The question left Sam's lips before he could stop himself. "She had a pretty good lump on her head. Maybe broken ribs even."

"Ribs bruised but not broken. X-ray confirmed that. As for the head wound, CT scan ruled out a skull fracture and bleeding in the brain. Probably a slight concussion but we'll know more once she wakes up."

"She's still unconscious?" Now a hint of concern breached Greg's professional calm. They all knew the boss had a soft spot where their female teammate was concerned. Knew that he saw Jules almost like the daughter he never had.

"More like in and out, mostly out." The doctor confirmed. "I'm not overly concerned. Lethargy is pretty common with the degree of hypothermia she presented with and a concussion on top of that would only worsen that. I expect she'll fully wake up with no difficulties in a few hours. Barring any unforeseen complications, I imagine we'll only keep them overnight. Tomorrow, if their temperatures are normal, we'll probably release them. Returning to active duty might take a few more days." It was obvious this wasn't Dr. Abrams's first time to treat police officers.

"A nurse will let you know when we have them settled in a room. I know you want to see them, reassure yourselves that they really are okay, but rest is the best thing for both of them."

"We won't stay long." Greg promised.

There was another question Sam was desperate for an answer to, but couldn't bring himself to ask. It was a legitimate question born from knowing the accusations leveled against Dublin, her state of undress when they found her and Spike, and the demolitions expert's level of protectiveness. But even as a cop it was too personal a question for just a teammate to ask. The doctor hadn't mentioned any concerns in that area so he would have to assume, at least for now, that nothing had happened.

Greg thanked the doctor for the information and as Dr. Abrams left, the team settled in once more to wait. This time it was a much more tolerable wait. Jules and Spike might be a little worse for wear but they were going to be fine - doctor confirmed until visual confirmation could be made.

At long last a nurse came out and gave them the room number and directions on how to get there. Ed, Greg, Raf, and Sam happily left the waiting room probably each with a silent hope that it would be the last time an ER wait for information about an injured teammate would be needed.

Once outside the hospital door, Ed knocked lightly before easing the door open. Jules was in the bed to the left, her smaller size dwarfed even more under the weight of several heavy blankets. Though all four men gave her sleeping figure a careful scrutiny, Sam's gaze lingered long after the others turned their attention to Spike. He noticed the gauze bandage on her forehead and knew she'd complain about it as soon as she was awake.

He remembered when he'd discovered her aversion to visible bandages when they first started dating secretly years earlier. She'd come to his apartment after they got off shift with the idea that they would cook supper together. They were in the kitchen where she'd been doing just that while he'd been doing everything in his power to distract her. He was hoping to convince her to abandon the food and help him "cook" something up in the bedroom. He'd soon realized that it probably wasn't a good idea when one particularly amorous attempt at distracting her while she was dicing vegetables caused her to cut her finger instead the zucchini she was working on.

She hadn't been upset by the cut or the distractions but when she saw his supply of Band-Aids, he had gotten a glimpse of her ire. He hadn't seen anything wrong with his choice of bandages; name brand and everything. She'd finally admitted that she only used clear bandages because she couldn't stand the fuss people made over her when they saw she'd been wounded, even such a minor cut. He'd argued that everyone got injured from time to time and wearing a band-aid wasn't a big deal. To prove his point, he'd worn a band-aid on his finger as well the next day to work. He'd been surprised by the number of people who had asked about hers while ignoring his. After that, he'd always kept a box of clear band-aids in his medicine cabinet in his bathroom, even during the years they were apart. He wished he had one in his pocket for her right then.

His eyes left the white gauze on her temple to drink in the rest of her. She was still much too pale with too much of a hint of blue for his liking. He wanted her eyes to open and her gaze to meet his so he would know for sure that she was okay. They remained closed, however, seemingly unaware of their presence.

He forced his attention off her and on to the figure in the next bed. Too much interest in Jules would just lead to suspicions they couldn't afford to raise. He smiled at Spike who was similarly ensconced in thick blankets. "Gave us quite a scare there, Buddy."

A hint of blush crept into Spike's otherwise pale cheeks but the color was good for him. "I'd shake everyone's hand but that would mean taking them out from under the blankets, and that ain't happening. They've got that fresh from the dryer warmth."

"Not a problem." Sarge assured him. "I talked to your mom and let her know you were here…"

"But she can't leave my dad to come check on me. I know." Spike finished. He sounded fine with it but Sam could hear the hurt and disappointment in his friend's voice just the same. He thought about his own mother. Nothing, not wild horses, not an ocean, not reassurances from him that it wasn't necessary, would keep his mother away if she thought he was injured. Spike continued. "Dad has an appointment in the morning so I'm sure they'll swing by then. Doc said I should be able to go home so it'll all be good."

Spike shifted on the bed and grimaced as the move jarred his injured ankle. It wasn't fair that it was hurting worse now that he was in the hospital. After the worst of the pain eased, he looked at Greg. "Tell me you got Dublin."

"We got him and his whole crew." Sarge assured him.

Spike nodded and glanced over at Jules. "Bastard zapped her with a stun gun I don't know how many times. Got me once with it. I would have liked to have turned it on him a time or two but there wasn't much I could do." His expression turned even more somber. "Boss, I let you down. I'm sorry."

Greg put a hand on Spike's shoulder through the thick blankets. "Listen to be, Spike, and listen good. You didn't let me down in any way. You hear me? I'm proud of you and I'm proud of Jules. Damn proud of both of you just like I always am. You've done nothing to change that and nothing you have to apologize for."

Spike shook his head. "We were supposed to save Ashley. She was the civilian and we were supposed to protect her but we didn't. Dublin captured us and ordered his brother to kill her. I couldn't stop him from hurting Jules and I couldn't stop him from killing Ashley."

"Ashley is fine, Spike," Greg assured him. It hadn't even crossed his mind that Spike hadn't known she'd survived. "Ronnie couldn't kill her. He left her in a closet upstairs and pretended to do what his brother wanted. She's fine. We sent her to St. James and her father is with her now. He's going to make sure she gets the help she needs."

Spike's relief was palatable. Then his eyes settled on Sam. "Things on the road are a bit fuzzy in my head. I don't know what was real or what was tricks my mind played. Did I hit you?"

"Don't worry about it," Sam was as quick to try to assuage the guilt Spike might be feeling as Greg had been to assure him that Ashley was okay. "Hell, I probably deserved it and worse for the hell I had to put the team through when I was filling in for Ed. Consider it payback."

Spike didn't seem as sure but nodded. He seemed about to say something more but a huge yawn interrupted him. Greg looked knowingly at the others and then back at Spike. "We promised the doctors we wouldn't stay long. You need to rest. If you or Jules need anything tonight, call me. I can be here in a hurry."

Sam frowned, knowing Greg was about to usher them out. He didn't want to go; now that Jules was safe, he didn't want to leave her side. He wanted to be there when she woke up. But what could he do? He couldn't leave with the others and sneak back to sit with her after he changed and officially signed out. He would never be able to justify his presence, not with Spike right in the next bed. Would she understand if she woke up and he wasn't there?

Sure enough, Greg urged them toward the door. Sam cast one more look toward Jules who hadn't reacted at all to their presence. His heart was heavy as he followed everyone out.

"Sam?" Spike's voice stopped him and the others before they could leave the room. He turned back toward his friend.

"Yeah, Spike?"

"Hospital food really sucks a big one. You think once you get off you could swing back by here? Maybe bring me a burger or something real to eat? Maybe even raid my locker for clothes for me to wear home tomorrow? Don't think I want to go home in this drafty gown."

And just like that was a ready made excuse for him to come back, maybe catch Jules for a moment or two once she woke up. If not, at least he could be there for his friend. He smiled. "Sure, I'll be glad to."


	12. Chapter 12

Author's Notes: I promise there is JAM in this chapter but before I get there, I had to have some Spike/Sam conversation. Hope you don't mind and I hope you enjoy the chapter. SYuuri was right, it's going to take one more chapter after this one to finish up. This is a fairly long chapter but lots that needed to be said.

Disclaimer: The show Flashpoint and its characters were created by Mark Ellis and Stephanie Morgenstern and belong to them and the networks who air the episodes. Since the show has ended, our only way of getting new Flashpoint is through fan fiction. This story is my attempt to help fill the void, and the only profit I make is the warm fuzzy feeling reviews give me. Anything that does not come directly from the show is my own creation and should not be used without my permission.

Out in the Cold

Chapter 12

Almost two hours had passed by the time Sam was finally able to return to the hospital. He'd planned on getting back much sooner but those plans had fallen by the wayside as soon as the team had arrived back at headquarters. Detective Harris was there, waiting on them for a debrief. Since he had Dublin's gang in custody, his opinion of their operation was a little better than it had been at the house, but his obvious lack of concern for the well-being of the injured Team One officers left a bad taste in Sam's mouth. As soon as the debrief finished, Sam had taken probably the fastest shower in the history of showers, changed clothes, and collected a change of clothing for both Spike and Jules.

He'd been halfway to the stairwell when Sarge had called him back. Sam swallowed down his frustration as Sarge started talking; it wasn't like the boss knew he was in a hurry to get back to the hospital. As far as Greg knew, Sam was merely honoring Spike's request. "Sam, I'm glad Spike asked you to come back. I know they don't need the whole team hanging around but leaving them completely alone didn't feel right either. I was going to slip back and keep them company for a little while but I'll leave it to you instead. Let them know I'll check on them tomorrow."

Sam promised and then gave his word not to stay too late so they could get the rest the doctor had prescribed. He saw no reason to mention that if Jules and Spike had been in separate rooms, there would have been no stopping him from staying with Jules all night. After she'd been shot and was still in serious condition, he'd spent several long nights sleeping in a hard plastic chair either in her room or in the waiting room in case something happened. He doubted Jules even knew about those nights.

Once he was out of the station, he'd made two stops on his way back to the hospital. One to the burger place he knew Spike liked the best. He'd picked up enough for Jules as well, knowing she'd be starving if she was already awake and hoping the smell would help rouse her if she wasn't. The second stop was at the hospital gift shop where he picked up two helium-filled, Mylar "Get Well Soon" balloons. He knew from experience that Jules didn't like flowers being brought to the hospital so he figured they would both appreciate a balloon better than anything else.

As he eased open the door to their hospital room, once again his eyes went straight to Jules. An older, no-nonsense nurse that reminded Sam of some of his worst drill sergeants was standing beside her bed taking her vitals. He felt an irrational need to hide the bag of burgers like he was some sort of high school kid getting caught sneaking alcohol into a school dance. The nurse barely glanced his way as she fussed with the blankets around Jules.

It didn't much look to Sam that Jules had changed position since he'd been gone. That was unusual. When they had first started sleeping together he had thought she was not sleeping well because she moved around so much in her sleep. He'd felt bad, thinking she wasn't used to sharing her bed with anyone. Whenever he broached the subject, she'd been quick to downplay his concerns. Slowly, he'd come to realize for Jules that what he'd assumed was restless sleep was actually the opposite. If she was still, she was restless and not sleeping the best. She was just an active person both awake and asleep. Currently she was as still as he'd ever seen her. Was her condition worse than what the doctor had thought? "How is she?"

"Temperature is still several degrees below what we'd like it to be but much better than it was. Personally, I think she's staying asleep just so she doesn't have to listen to Constable Grumpy Pants over there. Maybe with pleasanter company she'll decide it's okay to wake up. Maybe once you get one of those delicious smelling burgers in him, he'll actually be pleasanter company as well."

Okay, maybe not quite the stern drill sergeant he was picturing earlier. Sam decided she was more like his Aunt Sara, his father's surly looking spinster sister, whose dry wit was often the source of endless amusement at family gatherings. He didn't think he'd ever heard Spike described in such a way but a glance over at his bed and Sam had to agree the name currently seemed to fit Spike's expression.

The nurse continued. "I'll leave you to visit. I'll be back in an hour for the next check of their vitals. Just push the button if you need me before then."

As she left, Sam tied one balloon to the end of Jules's bed before doing the same for Spike's. He looked at the injured man, his amusement obvious. "Constable Grumpy Pants?"

"Stupid name," Spike groused, sounding every bit as grumpy as the nurse had implied. "It's not like I'm even wearing pants. She'd be grumpy too if someone was trying to check her core body temp every damn hour. I'd tell her where she could stick her damn thermometer except she apparently knows all too well already."

Sam winced. He thought back to the time he'd been twelve and had had his one and only bout of hypothermia. He and several friends, excited by the fact that the lake on base had finally frozen over, had rushed to be the first to try out the ice with a game of hockey. Unfortunately, the lake hadn't completely frozen over and the ice had cracked as soon as their weight had put a strain on it. Sam had been the one to fall through, panicking as he sank beneath the surface. His friends had pulled him out before he could drown and before severe hypothermia could settle in but he hadn't completely escaped harm or a trip to the base infirmary. He could remember the doctor checking his body temperature in the most humiliating way and had always assumed his father had asked or ordered the doctor to encourage Sam to never make that same mistake again. It had worked but now Sam was starting to realize the doctor hadn't been following the then Colonel Braddock's orders. "Ouch, sorry. Permission to be grumpy granted."

Spike smiled in spite of himself. "The balloon helps. If you've got a bacon cheddar burger with grilled onions in that bag, that would probably help a whole lot more."

Sam hung his head. "Sorry, Spike."

The other man's face fell slightly but he quickly hid it. "That's okay; I'm sure whatever you got is way better than anything I could get here. I appreciate you bringing me real food."

Sam opened the bag and handed Spike a wrapped burger. It wasn't much fun picking on his friend when he wasn't laying in a hospital looking pitiful. Sort of like kicking a puppy when he's down. "I figured after the day you've had, you deserved a double bacon cheddar burger with grilled onions."

All trace of misery left Spike's face at that. His grin threatened to split his face making his dimples his most prominent feature. "You are the best. Thanks, Man."

"Any time." Sam offered, then amended. "Just don't go to such extremes next time."

A little of the darkness crept back into Spike's eyes. "Not something I planned this time."

Mentally Sam kicked himself. He knew Spike was feeling bad about everything anyway and didn't need Sam unintentionally adding to it. "I know. Don't go back to blaming yourself. It happened and it would have happened to whomever got the task of going into the house. Detective Harris was so quick to want to blame us but he's the one who missed out on the intel that would have prevented this whole mess. The important thing is that you two are safe. Good teammates are hard to come by and we already have our work cut out for us breaking in Raf. I would have hated having to train two more rookies."

Spike chuckled as he settled in to eat his smuggled-in burger. After a moment Sam continued. "More importantly, I would have hated losing two friends I care about very much. After all, good friends are a hell of a lot harder to come by than good teammates."

Talk switched to trivial things as they ate. Jules moaned softly and muttered almost incoherently but Sam managed to pick up on a few words. He looked at her and then back at Spike. "Did she really just say something about flying bears?"

Spike nodded and then shrugged. "Don't ask me. She was talking about a purple unicorn earlier and some other weird mutterings here in the hospital. Scared me shitless at first but listening to her here has just been amusing. Good thing Jules isn't into hallucinogenic drugs. I'd hate to think what kind of trips she'd have on them."

Suddenly Sam's stomach turned over. Had she said anything in her delirium that revealed their relationship? "Unicorn, huh? Guess you've got ammunition on her."

Spike shook his head, swallowing the last of his burger. "Nah, I couldn't make out half of what she was saying. Hell, given some of the things I was seeing out there, I'd hardly be a reliable witness to anything even if I could."

That made Sam feel a lot better and he finished his own burger. Now that Spike's stomach was full, he settled back against the bed and lowered it into a more comfortable position. "I'm glad you came back. Staring at these walls is no fun even with the occasional entertainment from my neighbor over there."

Sam indicated the TV. "Want me to turn it on? There should be a hockey game on." Again his stomach did flip flops. Was it only this morning that he and Jules had planned on watching the game together after work? Seemed more like a lifetime ago.

"I'd hate to wake Jules. She tried to downplay it in typical Jules fashion but I know her head was really hurting. Dublin slammed her pretty hard against the side of the van. She even threw up a couple of times."

Sam couldn't very well admit knowing that once she was solidly asleep, a train running through the house wouldn't wake her up. "We can keep the volume low, turn on the captioning. Besides I think we'd both feel a little better if she would wake up and ream us for being too loud."

Spike nodded his agreement and Sam turned on the TV, found the station, and adjusted the sound so that they could hear the commentators without it being obnoxiously loud. When he returned to the chair he'd pulled up next to the bed, he saw that Spike's mood had once more dimmed, his expression now pensive. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

"Ma called earlier. She was crying so hard I could barely understand her. I know what she was trying to say though. She's worried about me, feeling guilty that she isn't here smothering me with attention, worried about Pop because when he heard I was hurt, he launched into his usual tirade about my job and made himself sick. I'm supposed to be making things easier for her and instead I'm just making things worse."

Sam's blue eyes narrowed in concern. He knew, probably better than anyone on the team, the emotional toil Mr. Scarlatti's illness was having on Spike. He wanted to be the Good Son, give in to his father's wishes but doing so would mean giving up everything that mattered to him. So he was stuck in an impossible situation.

"Listen Spike, you know how moms are. They get a little nuts when their kids are hurt, even if said kid is an adult. You were doing your job, not trying to make things worse. She knows that."

Spike didn't look convinced. "If I'd been doing my job right, none of this would have happened. If I'd been better at what I do, neither Jules or I would be hospital roomies right now."

Sam had to figure out a way to change Spike's thinking about the situation. He wasn't sure he had the right words but he had to try. "You didn't cause any of this. It wasn't your fault. It could have just as easily been any one of us in your place and the outcome would have been the same."

"Doesn't make me feel any less guilty. I mean compared to the shit Jules took from Dublin, I had a cake walk. I told her to let me take the brunt of his anger but it was like I didn't matter to him. Maybe the cold wouldn't have affected her as much if I'd protected her better."

"Or maybe it would have been worse." Sam argued. "Spike, you carried her out of there. Even if we hadn't come along when we did, you weren't but a couple of miles from the highway. What if you'd been injured so badly you couldn't have supported her weight and we hadn't found the coordinates where Dublin left you? The two of you would have frozen to death."

"Jules would have carried me if the situation was reversed. She wanted to anyway; said I didn't have any business walking on my busted ankle."

"Five miles?" Sam looked back to make sure Jules hadn't picked that time to wake up and be listening. "Spike, no matter how strong and invincible she might think she is, she's not super woman. Yeah, she's tough as anything and can drag Sarge's ass across the room like it's nothing. She probably could even carry your scrawny self a mile or two without breathing hard but five miles in the fucking cold? Not a chance. Of course, that's between you and me. If you tell her I said it, I'll deny it completely."

Spike opened his mouth to say something and then closed it again. He repeated the move several times while Sam patiently waited for him to figure out what and if he wanted to say. Finally Spike sighed. "All I could think about today was Lew. He needed me to be at my best so I could save him and I couldn't do it. He died because I wasn't good enough. Maybe this situation today was different; we weren't dealing with bombs but when it comes down to it though, it really wasn't. Jules was hurt and needed me and I let her down. Yeah, we're alive and I know I should be happy about it but it doesn't change the fact that she's lying in a hospital bed because I couldn't prevent her from being hurt."

Sam considered his words carefully. No matter how true they might be, the normal reassurances would just seem like empty platitudes. Spike's feelings were real to him - as real as the imagined threat Sam's presence had posed to him and Jules earlier. As a friend and as a teammate, Sam owed it to Spike to really take into consideration his thoughts and feelings instead of brushing them off.

"Spike, you know I understand that kind of guilt. I've been there and it's the worst feeling in the world. I know you also understand - at least in your head - that the kind of guilt you are feeling is misplaced and undeserved. Getting that to really sink in so you believe it might take awhile but eventually you'll get there. Until then I'm here whenever you need to talk."

Spike nodded, looking just a little less miserable. "Jules will kick my ass if I make a big deal out of it, huh?"

That was an understatement if Sam had ever heard one. "Definitely, but she'll also know it's because you care."

They settled in to watching the game and for awhile it was almost easy to forget where they were. Then the referee made a bad call against the team the two men were pulling for and as Spike reacted, he didn't think before moving his injured ankle. Stars swirled behind his eyes and his face paled.

"Shit! Fuck! Damn! Ouch! Should have just broken the damn ankle so the damn doctors could do something about it."

Sam winced in sympathy. "Sorry. Want me to see if I can get you an ice pack?" The glare Spike directed at him spoke volumes and Sam thought about what he'd said. "Sorry, guess ice is the last thing you would want. What about something for the pain? Surely they could at least do that."

Spike nodded. "Yeah, Nurse Battleaxe offered me something earlier but I turned her down. Pain medication on an empty stomach does a real number on me."

"Your stomach isn't empty now. Might help you sleep better too, or at least make you not so aware when she comes back with that thermometer again." Sam reminded him. He hated seeing his friend in pain.

Spike closed his eyes, gritting his teeth together as he rode out the pain. "Yeah, I guess so. You won't think I'm a wimp for taking something, will you?"

"Not even a little bit. I'll even go ask Nurse Battleaxe for you if you want me too."

Spike nodded his thanks. Sam quickly realized that the nurse had been anticipating Spike's need for something for pain so it didn't take long before she was injecting the contents of a syringe into his IV. Spike finally opened his eyes again once the nurse had left. "I should warn you that pain medication knocks me completely out and pretty quickly too. Always has. I'm not going to be very good company pretty soon."

Sam shrugged. "I won't take offense. I'll stick around until you fall asleep and then leave. Hopefully the medication will let you get some good sleep and when you wake up in the morning, it won't be long before the doctor cuts you loose from here."

Drowsiness was already started creep over him. Spike yawned. "Do me a favor, when you leave, pull the curtain between my bed and Jules's. Now that he's off shift, I'm sure her boyfriend is going to want to spend time with her. Once I fall asleep I won't know anything that goes on and even if I did, I wouldn't remember it in the morning. Still, I'd like them to have privacy."

"Boyfriend?" Sam tried to keep his tone neutral and unaffected. "I haven't heard Jules talk about a boyfriend."

Spike nodded. "I hadn't either until today. You know Jules though; she's a private person. I don't think she wants us to know but she mentioned him some today while she was pretty out of it. I don't know details and even if I did, like I said earlier, no one would trust what I had to say. Sounded like she was head over heels about him though; I don't know if he even knows how important he is to her. Jules deserves to be happy though; she's a great person and only a great guy is good enough for her. I'm glad she has him."

Sam heard what Spike wasn't saying. Whatever Jules had said during her delirium had clued him in to the fact that they were dating again. He knew but he wasn't going to say anything, not even to them about it. It was probably the reason why Spike had asked him to come back, not just because he wanted real food and real clothes and real company, but because he was trying to give Sam a reason to come back and check on Jules. "Sounds like he's a lucky guy."

Spike nodded. "Yeah, but I think Jules would say she's the lucky one."

"Too bad you'll be asleep if he stops by. I'm sure he'd want to tell you how grateful he was that you were there for Jules today. I'm sure he knows as well as we do that Jules is pretty stubborn about accepting help."

Spike's eyelids drooped and then closed. He hadn't been lying about how quickly pain medication affected him. He twisted onto his side and only somewhat groaned at the change in his ankle's position. "Maybe, or else he'll want to bust my lip when he sees her all bruised up. Wouldn't blame him if he did."

After all the reassurances Sam had given him, Spike still thought he would blame him for anything? Had they fallen on deaf ears or had he only imagined that Spike knew the truth? Now he couldn't decide. "I would. He's going to look at Jules and know just how much worse it could have been if you hadn't been there. That's what he'll focus on. Don't worry about that."

Spike didn't answer and Sam realized he'd fallen asleep. He didn't have any real answers to whether Spike really knew about them but he was going to trust that Spike was telling the truth about how much the pain medication affected him since he'd been right about how quickly. Sam pulled the curtain between the two beds and pulled a chair up right besides Jules's bed. He sat down, staring at her sleeping features.

The close proximity wasn't close enough for him. His breath quickened as he thought about how close he'd come to losing her. One hand reached out and brushed her hair from her face while the other slipped beneath the mound of blankets seeking out her hand. With his hand firmly grasping hers, he gave it a reassuring squeeze. She murmured something but didn't awaken. Her skin still felt cool to his touch but not the deathly cold from earlier. He still wasn't close enough to suit him. He released her hand and lowered the railing that separated them. Standing, he toed off his shoes and sat on the bed beside her, easing into a reclining position next to her and slipping his arms around her to cuddle her close to him.

It didn't matter that it was a hospital bed and that the nurse would probably have a fit if she came in and saw him lying in the bed with Jules. All that mattered was having her safe and protected in his arms. For the first time since they'd left headquarters to issue the warrant, things felt right. Almost immediately he felt her relax, her head trying to burrow into his chest and a soft sigh of contentment escaping her lips. For a moment he could almost believe they were either at his apartment or her house and she had fallen asleep before he'd come to bed. In those rare moments, as soon as he'd joined her she would snuggle into his embrace much the same way she was doing now and her sleep was immediately better.

He buried his face into her hair, inhaling the scent of her shampoo. The hockey game was still on the TV but he wasn't paying it any attention. Now that he had his arms around her and he was as alone with her as he was going to get, he couldn't take his eyes off of her. Then tension that had been building up inside him along with the worry about her was starting to ease as well. As bad as it had been, as bad as it could have been, she was right there and she was going to be fine. He wanted her to wake up but in the meantime, he could trust that she would do so soon.

Her eyes fluttered and then opened completely. The light hurt her pounding head but rather than closing her eyes against it, she turned her head into Sam's broad, comforting chest and groaned softly. He kissed the top of her head.

"Come on, Jules, let me see those beautiful brown eyes."

"No. Too bright. Head hurts. Make it go away." Jules mumbled, her voice still sounding a little sleepy but not as incoherent as she had earlier. Sam reached for the controls on the side of the bed and lowered the lights until just the dim reading light above the bed remained.

"Okay, bright light is gone." Sam kept his voice low so as not to add to her discomfort. Slowly, she lifted her head; this time actually meeting his eyes. He smiled down at her. "Hey there. Welcome back."

Jules stretched up, ignoring the pain in her ribs and head, and kissed him. Her lips crushed against his and her hands went to either side of his neck, pulling him even closer. It was a desperate, hungry kiss, unlike any she'd ever given him. Sam responded to her kisses with equal enthusiasm. He needed the connection just as much as Jules apparently did. They were both breathless when she finally pulled back. Sam cupped the sides of her face gently. He couldn't quite read the expression in her eyes and that concerned him.

"Jules?"

She shook her head. "As much as I hate to admit it, there were times today I wasn't sure I was going to survive. I was so cold and my head was pounding and I couldn't concentrate. As I felt myself slipping away, I knew if I fell asleep, I ran a big risk that I'd never wake up again. Knew it but couldn't stop myself from giving in to the darkness. I was afraid I wasn't going to survive, and I certainly never expected to wake up in your arms like this. It wasn't like I doubted you or the rest of the team but that I had to realize the situation didn't look good." She shivered and Sam tucked her back close to his body and pulled the blankets back up around her. It wasn't until she continued that he realized the shaking had little to do with her being cold. "I was scared, Sam. Hell, maybe I still am. It's new territory for me and I don't like it."

He kissed her again, tightening his hold on her. He could tell by the way her voice got small and hesitant that it was hard for her to admit how she felt. Would have known even if her voice had been completely normal. Admitting fear wasn't something that came easy for any of them but he knew Jules would take being scared as being a weakness and admitting it as the ultimate low point. "It's okay; it's all over. You're okay. Gave me a hell of a fright though. When I saw that gun pointed at your head and heard him threaten to kill you, I wanted nothing more than to put a bullet through his head before he got the chance to carry out his threat. I would have too, damn the consequences to anyone else, but I caught you looking at me and it was like you were talking me down better than you were Dublin."

The grip she had on his arm was tight, but he wasn't going to complain because the strength in her grasp further confirmed that she really was okay. She sniffled, ready to blame the irritating nasal cannula feeding her oxygen if questioned about it. Although some moments were fuzzy, most of what had happened in the van after she'd regained consciousness was clear in her memory. Even though he'd been injured too, Spike had pushed aside his pain and fear to take care of her when her head had been too painful and fuzzy for her to do much. And she hadn't even asked about him. "Spike, is he…"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, he's fine; he's knocked out on pain meds in the next bed because of his ankle." Remembering that Spike had thought Ashley had been killed, he wanted to reassure her before the worry hit her. "Ashley is okay as well. She wasn't killed and we got her to the hospital. She's going to be okay."

A single tear escaped her defenses and made a solitary track down her cheek. She'd purposefully avoiding thinking about Ashley, not wanting to think about the young girl being killed because she and Spike hadn't been able to prevent her death. To know she was okay as well was almost too much to hope for. Questions flooded her brain, causing the dull throb in her temple to worsen. How had Ashley survived? How had the team found them in time? Was Spike really okay? Was _she _really okay? One question, one fear, dominated the rest of them. "Wait, did you say the next bed? Spike's in the same room? Sam, you can't be here, certainly not in the same bed with me. They'll find out and we'll be transferred and Sarge will be in trouble."

Her voice was barely above a whisper but she made no move to push him away. She knew it was wrong but she didn't want him to release her, wanted him to stay right where he was. The selfish part of her, the part that had been through too much and just wanted to think about what she wanted and needed for awhile wanted to say to hell with it all. If having Sam hold her meant their relationship came out, then so be it. But the larger part of her knew there was too much at stake, more than just her immediate feelings and that she had to protest. Sam reached up to lightly caress her cheek. "It's okay, Jules. I..I think he knows about us."

She shook her head. "He can't. How…Why…What did he say?"

"That while you were delirious you talked about the guy you were with. He never mentioned me by name and he was pretty vague about what he really did know. But he kept insisting he didn't know anything while assuring me that even if he did know something, no one should trust what he said after what happened today. It's okay, Jules. If he does know about us, I get the feeling he approved and he's not going to say anything. If he doesn't, he's not going to figure it out tonight with the pain medication the nurse gave him."

"But if the others…" Jules felt ridiculous arguing about it. She wanted Sam to stay, wanted him to continue to hold her. So why was she pushing him away?

"They aren't." Sam further assured her. He could feel the tension returning to her body and wanted to ease it away. "And I have to be honest with you, Jules. Right now, I don't give a flying flip if they do come in. All day long I had to watch what I said and what I did, had to hide just how much knowing you were missing and injured was killing me. I'm tired and I've got you in my arms and that feels pretty damn good. I've got a pretty safe opportunity to keep it that way and I'm not ready to give that up."

Their eyes locked together for several long seconds. She wanted him right there holding her as much as he wanted to be there. Maybe they were playing with lit sticks of dynamite but maybe it was worth it for now. Jules nodded and settled back against his chest. "Okay."

She shifted into a more comfortable position and couldn't stop the whimper as the move sent a twinge of pain across her bruised ribs. Sam picked up on it immediately. "I should probably call the nurse and let her know you're awake. Maybe she can give you something for pain as well."

Jules shook her head, her hold on him tightening. "Not yet. I'm okay. Besides, with a head injury, you know they are going to be reluctant to give me anything. I'm sore, but it's nothing I can't handle. Can't we just lay here together for a little longer?"

Sam nodded. He'd give her anything she wanted or needed for as long as she needed it. Once more the question that he had pushed aside for propriety's sake earlier rose to the front of his mind. "Jules, did Dublin _do_ anything?"

He didn't have to elaborate for her to know what he was truly asking. Even though nothing had happened, she shuddered at the thought of it. "No. I think when he took our uniforms, he wanted me to think he was. He had me strip before Spike. I think he got off on it. Bastard. Poor Ashley though, she wasn't as lucky."

"She'll get help. She'll be okay." Sam insisted. Jules's stomach grumbled and suddenly Sam remembered the burger he'd brought her. "Hey, you haven't eaten anything since breakfast; you've got to be starving. Spike asked me to bring him a burger when I came back so I got you one as well."

He eased out of the bed to retrieve it. Jules bit back the whimper of protest that wanted to emerge. His movement didn't hurt but her body immediately felt the loss of his presence. She didn't want to say she needed him; that made her feel weak, but she couldn't deny just how much she wanted him. Maybe more than she'd ever wanted him. He was back in just a few seconds, placing the dinner tray across the bed, setting the bag with the final burger in front of her, and raising the bed so she was sitting completely upright. She made no move for it until he was once more squeezed into the small bed next to her.

She had to admit the burger, even though it was now cold, was delicious. She savored every bite, trying not to think about how things could have gone so much worse today and how she might not have ever been able to have Sam's arm casually around her back or to be able to eat a burger again. When the burger was gone, she once more stretched up so that her lips could meet Sam's. Though she wanted so much more, she'd have to content herself with losing herself in his kisses for now. Kisses that were so much more powerful than anything the hospital pharmacy had to offer in the form of a pain killer. And lose themselves in the kisses they did so that all that mattered was the other person.

The door to the room opened but neither noticed. A pair of eyes took in their embraces unseen. It wasn't until a throat was cleared that either sniper realized they were being watched. A flush of red colored Jules's cheeks but Sam looked unrepentant toward the figure who had caught them mid lip lock. The nurse shook her head. "Told you pleasanter company might convince her to wake up."

Sam grinned. "Yeah, I guess you did."

She didn't fuss at him for being in the bed with Jules or even question him about it at all. Instead, she reached for the light switch, apologizing for having to turn it on. Jules closed her eyes at the warning but then slowly opened them again as she adjusted to the light. This time it didn't hurt as much and she was able to keep them open without turning away from the glare. The nurse crossed the room to stand on the side of the bed away from where Sam was sitting. "How are you feeling?"

"Better than I felt several hours ago." It was a vague answer but it was the best Jules wanted to give. To admit anything more felt like whining. Though having Sam's warm body against her helped, she still felt unreasonably cold, like she might not ever be warm again. Her head throbbed and her ribs ached. But she was alive. Spike was alive. Ashley was alive. Seemed like a fair enough trade.

The nurse clucked her tongue, unconvinced, and busied herself taking vitals. She didn't ask Sam to move, pretty sure any such request or order would fall on deaf ears. When she shined a pen light in Jules's eyes, the younger woman winced but didn't turn away. Finally the nurse was satisfied with her findings. "Your temperature is pretty much back to normal. Don't be surprised if you still feel cold for a few days though. It takes the body a while to recover. Of course with your own personal heater there, it might not be so bad. I'll have to come in periodically through the night to wake you up because of the head injury but I'll try to keep it brief. If you need anything, call the desk. I'll be out of here as soon as I check on Constable Grumpy Pants."

Jules raised an eyebrow and looked at Sam. His snort told her there was a story there and she'd get it from him later. Once the nurse left, turning off the overhead light as she did, Sam lowered the bed and then cupped Jules's chin in his hand. "Unless you unequivocally tell me no, I'm staying the night."

She nodded. "Right where I want you to be."

Sam continued. "I'll have to leave pretty early though. I wouldn't put it past Sarge to come by to check on the two of you before he goes into the station. Me being here would be too hard to explain if he does."

"I'll take what I can get. Now, where were we before we were interrupted?"


	13. Chapter 13

Author's Notes: Here it is, the final chapter. Sorry for the delay, I had hoped to post this last weekend but it wouldn't cooperate with me. I hope you have enjoyed this story as much as I've enjoyed writing it. Besides Re-Education, I have at least a couple more stories fighting for attention to be written, so there will be more to come.

Disclaimer: The show Flashpoint and its characters were created by Mark Ellis and Stephanie Morgenstern and belong to them and the networks who air the episodes. Since the show has ended, our only way of getting new Flashpoint is through fan fiction. This story is my attempt to help fill the void, and the only profit I make is the warm fuzzy feeling reviews give me. Anything that does not come directly from the show is my own creation and should not be used without my permission.

Out in the Cold

Chapter 13

"This is ridiculous." Jules grumbled the next morning as the nurse came into the room with a wheelchair.

Sarge nodded. "I agree. It's ridiculous that you are giving us a hard time on things you know are going to happen whether you like them or not. But if it makes you feel better to keep voicing your protests, then do so."

She glared up at her boss almost mutinously from where she was sitting on the hospital bed. She knew it wasn't fair to take out her bad mood on him. The bad mood she'd been in since she'd woken up early in the morning to find she was alone. It hadn't been that she was really that surprised to discover Sam had left. After all, Sam had warned her the night before that he would slip out early to make sure his presence wasn't discovered by any early morning visitors. Besides, he had to change clothes before shift started; he'd have a hard time explaining why he was showing up at work in the same clothes as the day before.

She had known he'd leave early but she was a little surprised, and maybe a little hurt, that he'd slipped out without saying goodbye. She guessed that knowing everything she'd been through the day before and the fact that her sleep during the night had been interrupted by the unfamiliar bed, pain when she moved the wrong way, and the nurse every few hours checking her lucidity levels, Sam hadn't wanted to wake her up to tell her that he was leaving. Still, the irrational feeling of being abandoned, mixed with the lack of good sleep, mixed with the headache that still pounded at her temple and the soreness of her ribs, had left her in a mood.

"I don't need to ride out of here in a wheelchair like I'm helpless. I can walk just fine; they can save that contraption for someone who needs it." She continued to grumble, her arms folded across her chest.

The nurse, a different one from the night before since their shifts had changed, glanced from Jules to Greg and back again. She was young and new to the job and while she was starting to become accustomed to stubborn male patients giving her a hard time about rules but she didn't think she'd ever had a patient like Jules before. "It's hospital regulations, Ma'am."

Jules wrinkled her nose at being called Ma'am. She didn't know why the term irked her so much but it never failed to bring out the worst in her, especially when she was already cranky. "Stupid if you ask me."

"Maybe, but you've got a better chance of convincing a brick wall to move than getting the hospital staff to let you leave without riding out in one." Raf warned at the same time as agreeing with her.

It shouldn't but it bothered her that Raf was there. It wasn't anything against the newest member of Team One. She liked Raf or at least she liked him as well as you could like anyone after knowing them just two days. She wasn't upset that he was there, more like it bothered her who wasn't. When Sarge had called to say that he would swing by to pick her up once the doctor had released her, she'd expected Sam to use the opportunity to put in an appearance with no questions being raised. She'd skillfully hidden her disappointment when the SRU rookie walked in with Greg instead.

"Now, are you ready to get out of here?" Sarge pressed in his normal, relaxed tone.

Despite the fact that Jules wanted to let her annoyance with the situation be shown as she flounced out of bed, she knew her ribs and her head were too tender for such dramatics. While she didn't really like the idea of having to take the wheelchair, she knew it was regulation as much as Raf did. It was just a more convenient target for her bad mood than what was really bothering her. She eased out of the bed, reaching out for Sarge's arm to steady herself. The few times she'd been out of bed since waking, she'd had to deal with momentary dizziness until she regained her equilibrium. This time was no exception. Immediately, Greg's arm came around her waist to support her. He frowned.

"You sure you're okay to leave? Maybe it would be better if you …"

"Finish that statement and I'll forget you're the boss." Jules warned. "Yeah, the doc cleared me. Not just any doc but the neurologist he consulted that meant I had to stick around this place hours after Spike got sprung." Another bone of contention for her. Spike's mom had shown up not long after breakfast, fussing over Spike and apologizing for not being able to come the night before. While the older woman was still doting on him, the hospital doctor had made his rounds. He discharged Spike almost immediately, cautioning the demolitions expert to use crutches and stay off his ankle for a few days. The doctor wasn't as eager to release Jules. Despite the report the ER doctor had left that the scans of her head hadn't shown anything of concern, he wanted the neurologist to clear her first. It had taken almost three hours for the doctor to come by and only ten minutes for him to declare that she was okay to leave.

The momentary dizziness passed and Jules was ready to walk the three or four steps it would take to reach the wheelchair. Before she could pull away from Greg, however, the nurse steered the wheelchair closer to her.

"Now, before you leave, let me remind you of your discharge orders. The doctor said it wouldn't be unusual for you to get lightheaded when you stand but if it doesn't pass or you start to feel nauseated, you should come straight back in. Follow up with your regular physician next week and no strenuous activities in the meantime. Here's your prescription for pain medication." The nurse handed her the slip of paper.

Jules took it, grumbling under her breath about not needing anything stronger than Tylenol for pain and that it was just a waste of ink and paper for the doctor to have written it. With a grin of understanding, Greg took the prescription from her and put it in his shirt pocket. "We'll make sure she gets it filled. Thanks."

Greg pushed the wheelchair as Raf followed him down the hall to the elevator. Once they were riding down, Greg glanced down at the injured sniper. "You need to make any other stops on the way home?"

She shook her head. "Not unless you want to drop me off at HQ so I can get my jeep. Seriously, the two of you shouldn't even be here. Team One is short-handed as it is since Spike and I are hurt; you don't need to be taking time off to chauffeur me around. I could have called a taxi to get me home."

Sarge knelt down next to the wheelchair so he could look her directly in the eye. "Get this straight, we are not short-handed; we are just different-handed. We've got Paul and Doug from Team 2 covering so we're fine. Yeah, I felt better dividing up the team so there was a Team One member in each vehicle so I've got Ed with Doug and Sam with Paul but that's because I know how they'll react on a call and they'll anticipate my commands because they know me. Raf and I taking you home and making sure you are settled is not an imposition and I would have been hurt if you'd taken a cab home. So stop worrying, okay?"

Jules frowned. So that's why Sam hadn't figured out a way to come with Sarge to pick her up. That made sense and washed away some of the sting she'd felt at his absence. "What if you get a hot call?"

"We take you along for the ride." Greg answered without hesitation and as soon as he saw her eyes light up, added. "And as soon as we were on scene, I'd have one of the unis drive you home. You heard the nurse and more importantly so did I: no strenuous activity for at least a week. That means no work until your regular doctor clears you. That also means no going home and deciding do some sort of amazing renovation project either. If I find out you do, I'll make sure you are on light duty for at least a month _after_ the doctor clears you. Got it?"

She grumbled under her breath again but Greg just smiled as if she'd agreed to his every word. He straightened back up; it wasn't that he wanted to bully Jules into obeying the doctor's orders but he knew she was sometimes too stubborn for her own good. Being firm and even heavy-handed was the only way to counter her natural inclination to over do things. The elevator opened on the first floor and Greg pushed the wheelchair out ahead of him. Raf glanced at him.

"Want me to go bring the SUV around?"

Greg nodded as Jules interrupted emphatically. "No! Stupid rules say I have to ride this damn thing to the door but that's it. I'm perfectly capable of walking to the parking garage and the SUV and don't even start on me that it is 'strenuous.' Strenuous was Spike hauling my mostly unconscious delirious ass miles down a dirt road on a busted ankle to keep us from freezing to death. Walking to the truck is nothing."

At first Greg looked like he was going to veto her protests but he heard in her voice the deeper meaning behind her insistence. For as long as he'd known her, Jules had demonstrated an amazing strength and a determination to never appear weak. It wouldn't matter to her that she'd been injured, the idea that she hadn't walked out of the call the day before under her own strength was eating her alive even if no one else thought anything else about it. If letting her walk to the truck gave her back something she felt she'd lost, then who was he to argue? "Okay. The truck is this way."

Greg made one stop during the drive to Jules's house. He personally went in to the drugstore to get the prescription for painkillers filled. He knew Jules wouldn't do it on her own but also knew she'd probably, despite her protests, be glad she had them at some point as she recovered. At her house, he wasn't content to just drop her off, insisting instead on walking her up the drive and seeing her inside. He reiterated his admonishment that she follow the doctor's orders to the letter and his warning of what would happen if she didn't. Then, giving her a gentle hug, he made her promise to call him if she needed anything before leaving.

Doing nothing didn't come easy for Jules. It wasn't a completely foreign concept; she'd been known to spend the majority of a day either in bed or curled up on the couch with Sam. However, those lazy days usually involved more than just laying or sitting around. There was something about being told she _couldn't_ do something that made her want to do it even more. She stood in the middle of her living room, contemplating what she could do that wouldn't land her in hot water - or a month of light duty- with Sarge. She didn't stand there long before she decided she could still make a plan to be defiant while sitting on the couch. Almost as soon as she was comfortable, her body reminded her of just how little sleep she'd gotten the night before.

She yawned, her jaw popping with the effort. A little nap wouldn't hurt anything; she decided. Wasn't like she was giving in to the doctor's demands or anything. She'd take a little nap now and then when she woke up, she'd do something productive. She grabbed the throw that usually served as a decorative accent to the back of the couch and covered herself with it. In no time, she was sound asleep.

- FP - FP - FP -

Sam let himself into Jules's house a couple of hours after the end of shift. He'd come in through the back door, not wanting to disturb her if she was sleeping. Setting the brown take-out bag on the kitchen table, he continued on to the living room, shrugging out of his coat in the process. No other shift, except maybe the day before, had ever seemed so long. All day long, he'd ridden around in the SUV with Paul from Team Two but his heart and mind hadn't really been in the vehicle with him.

It had killed him to slip out of the hospital room before five in the morning in order to get changed and make sure he avoided accidentally running into any early morning visitors. Before he'd left, he'd laid there beside her, staring at her in the dim light of the hospital room as if he might not see her again. He'd lightly traced the outline of the bruises starting to stand out on her delicate, beautiful face, resisting the urge to kiss her awake so that he could then kiss her senseless. He knew she was sleeping hard when his touch didn't so much as cause her to stir. Though he hated to leave without a goodbye, he hated the idea of disturbing her even more. Instead, he'd brushed his lips ever so lightly against her lips in the hint of a kiss before easing out of the bed. He'd paused at the door, staying longer than he truly needed to, just watching her sleep. Then with a sigh, he'd left.

Now, he found himself once again watching her without her knowing it. Only this time she wasn't asleep. Instead, she was sitting amidst cushions she'd scattered on the floor in front of her DVD shelf. Her back was to him and it looked like every DVD she owned was stacked on the floor beside her. She had the throw from the back of the couch draped over her, but he could tell beneath it she was wearing a thick sweatshirt. He knew that even though her temperature had returned to normal, she'd still feel the residual cold for awhile.

"Do I even want to know what you are doing?"

She didn't jump at his sudden question though he knew he'd surprised her. She was too in control of her reflexes and emotions to be startled. Instead, she turned slightly, her expression rueful, like a child who'd been caught with her hand in in the cooking jar. She shrugged. "I've been needing to organize my collection for the longest time. It always takes me forever to find the DVD I want to watch."

Tossing his coat toward a chair, Sam crossed the room and settled on the floor just behind her so that her back was against his chest. His arms wrapped around her pulling her snuggly to him. She tilted her head up to meet his lips as they indulged in the kisses they'd both been missing all day. When they finally pulled apart, Jules rested her head against his shoulder. "Shift should have ended a couple of hours ago. I was beginning to think you weren't coming by."

"Wild horses wouldn't have kept me away," Sam promised her. "Ed's got baby duty tonight and Sarge has a council meeting he's required to attend. I didn't think they'd have time to stop by to check on you but I couldn't guarantee it. So after I got changed, I stopped by to check on Spike." Sam fingered the edge of the throw. "He's sporting the extra blanket look too, by the way. On the way here, I stopped and picked up a big container of that clam chowder you love so much."

"With cheddar biscuits?" Jules asked hopefully.

Sam nodded. "Of course. How could I possibly forget your absolute favorite?" He glanced at the stack of DVDs closest to her. "I don't think I'm following your system here."

"First I sorted them by genre and then put them in order by how much I like the movie. Alphabetical order wasn't working for me."

Sam nodded. In other words she was bored out of her mind and looking for any kind of distraction. Now that he was home, he hoped to help her with that. "Can I pry you away from your task long enough to eat?"

Her stomach rumbled its answer. She blushed. "Are you kidding? I had to eat breakfast and lunch at the hospital which pretty well meant I didn't eat. I'm starved."

Sam glanced at his watch with a frown. "You've been home for hours now. Why didn't you eat something earlier?"

If possible, Jules's blush deepened even more. "After I got home, I took a little nap. I guess I got less sleep last night than I thought because I slept for almost two hours. Apparently though, I didn't find the most comfortable position before I fell asleep because when I woke up my ribs were really hurting. I even took one of those damn pain pills Sarge insisted on getting filled. That only made me fall asleep again. I've only been awake for about ninety minutes. Damn medicine has my brain a little fuzzy and I didn't even think about being hungry until you mentioned food."

Sam's fingers ghosted over the bandage on her temple. Not surprisingly she's switched out the thick white bandage from the hospital for a large clear, mostly unnoticeable one. "How's the headache?"

She shrugged. "Not as bad as it was last night. Mostly a dull throb like you get when you go a few days without any caffeine. All things considering, I'm doing okay. I don't even see why I have to take a whole week off."

Sam grinned; he'd wondered how long it would take her to start complaining about the time off. "Jules, we wouldn't want the doc telling us how to handle a sniper shot would we?" Immediately she shook her head and the look she gave him told him she knew where he was going with this but he continued anyway. "Then we aren't going to question his judgment either. Now, let's eat."

Before she could move, he kissed her again. While she was distracted by his kiss, his arms slipped underneath her knees and back and he lifted her effortlessly off the floor until he was standing with her in his arms. Then he set her feet gently to the ground. He shrugged unabashedly. "I've had busted ribs before and I know how painful getting up and down off the floor like that can be. I knew you wouldn't admit it so I thought I'd save you a little pain. I'm crazy that way."

Jules didn't even pretend to be mad at him. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his waist and let him lead her toward the kitchen. She didn't even protest when he urged her toward her chair at the table while he grabbed a bowl for her and a plate for himself and took a couple of sodas from the refrigerator.

The chowder was still hot and Jules welcomed the warmth as it slid down her throat. She still felt chilled to the very bone like she'd never truly be warm again. She'd felt the way her body was still shivering every so slightly all day and hoped it wasn't as noticeable as it felt. For a few minutes, she simply enjoyed the meal, one of her all-time favorites. Then she glanced over at Sam, who was eating a shrimp po-boy. She knew he wasn't a big fan of clam chowder so the fact that he remembered it was her favorite and gotten it for her warmed her as much as the temperature of the meal. She reached her foot over and nudged his ankle in a way of saying thanks.

He met her gaze, his own expression looking somber now. "I must have reached for my phone at least a dozen times today to check on you. Each time before I could start to compose a message, I remembered your cell phone is in the evidence lock up from where we retrieved it from Dublin yesterday. I don't think I have to tell you how frustrating it was."

Jules had forgotten about her cell phone. For a moment she panicked thinking about others possibly looking at its contents. She was careful though - they both were- about erasing messages and not leaving any evidence of their relationship for anyone to find. "I wondered why you hadn't called."

"I know, I could have called your landline but I had Paul right there beside me all day and he would have questioned every word I said. Just like he questioned absolutely everything I did all day. I swear he might be a great SRU officer one day but right now he's just plain annoying. Please tell me I wasn't that…" He paused looking for the best word to describe the Team Two Rookie before continuing, "exuberant when I was the rookie."

Jules shook her head. "No, you were way too cocky to ever be called exuberant."

Before he could he retort, the aforementioned landline began to ring. Signaling him to be quiet, Jules rose and picked up the receiver off the base unit on the wall and said hello. "Hey Ed, no I'm doing okay…Yes, I'm taking it easy; slept most of the day actually…No, I'm good for food. I had something delivered…That's sweet but there's no reason to bundle Izzy up and get her out in this cold just to check on me. You know me, if you bring the baby by I'll want to hold her and that's probably not a good idea with my ribs right now and besides, I'll probably just turn in early anyway… Thanks, Ed. Yeah, I'll call you if I need anything." She said her goodbyes and hung up the phone. She returned to her seat slowly, her head bowed ever so slightly. Sam reached out and touched her cheek.

"You okay?"

"Yeah." Her one word answer wasn't very convincing. She lifted her spoon for another bite of her chowder but then lowered it back to the bowl without eating it. "I hate it sometimes, you know?"

Sam scooted his seat closer to her. His blue eyes full of concern and searching for any signs of answers in her face. "Hate what?"

"All this sneaking around and hiding from our friends. I tried talking to Spike this morning to see exactly what I said while I was out of it yesterday but he wouldn't give anything away. Just kept telling me that nothing I said made any sense and that he couldn't even trust his own memories anyway. I'm pretty sure it was his way of telling me without telling me that he wasn't going to say anything but it's driving me crazy. You had to slip away this morning to avoid being caught and you couldn't even call and check on me because it would raise suspicions. Now I'm, if not exactly lying to Ed, at least stretching the truth when all he's trying to do is check on me. It's not supposed to be this way - it shouldn't be this way. It's just wrong."

Now Sam felt like someone had punched him in the gut. Was she breaking up with him? Was that how she dealt with being hurt, by pushing him away? He'd barely survived the first time she walked away from him but now he was much more invested in the relationship and in her, he knew he wouldn't make it if she broke up with him again. "You think we're wrong? Is that what you are saying? You don't want to sneak around?"

"Yeah," The word came out on a pain-filled breath. Then as if realizing what she'd said, her head came up sharply, her brown eyes flashing something that resembled fear. "NO! That's not what I meant at all. Yeah, I don't want to have to sneak around, that's true. But I don't regret giving us another chance. I want to be with you. Us-this relationship- is important to me, maybe more important than I ever realized. Ending things before was the stupidest mistake I ever made even if it seemed right at the time. I was only fooling myself thinking my feelings for you would disappear just because I was scared of losing my job. If anything my attempts to deny them only made them stronger. Toth confronting me about how I felt about you only made me realize that. I don't want to lose you; I don't think I could stand it if I did."

Sam felt like he could breathe again listening to her words. He nodded. "But you don't like all the subterfuge we have to go through to be together."

She nodded, rising out of her chair and moving over to sit on his lap. She rested her head on his shoulder. "We shouldn't have to sneak around. What we do off shift shouldn't matter to anyone. Nobody else has to account to the brass about their relationships. Why can't they just trust us to do our jobs without letting our feelings get in the way?"

"Because we can't just turn off our feelings while we're on the job. I won't lie to you, Jules, yesterday was hell for me, probably not the same kind of hell you were going through, but hell just the same. Knowing you were in danger and not being able to do anything about it was killing me. Knowing I couldn't let on just how much just made things worse. When that guy had the gun to your head and was threatening to kill you right there in front of us, it was damn hard separating Sam the sniper from Sam the boyfriend."

"But you did it." Her eyes were dry; she wasn't going to cry, but her voice showed just how close she was to tears just the same. "You showed we can do the job and maintain priority of life."

"I couldn't totally turn off my feelings though," Sam admitted. "I probably pushed the envelope on professionalism more than a few times. If anyone noticed, they chalked it up to my protective nature toward my friends. If they had known you and I were together again, though, it might have changed things. Everything I did would have been questioned. Right or wrong, that's the way it would have been."

Jules sniffled slightly, the closest to giving in to her emotions she would allow. "Sucks a big one."

Sam chuckled softly. "No argument there." Then he sobered. "Jules, you're right, it shouldn't be their business that we are together, but it does. The team is on probation and part of that probation hinges on us not being together. Like it or not, right now I don't think we have much of a choice. We either keep our relationship a secret, one of us gives up our spot on the team, or we don't have a relationship. I know which one gets my vote. I guess right now it's up to you. Which one do you want?" Again he held his breath.

Jules tightened the blanket around her shoulder that wasn't pressed against Sam and then reached up to cup the side of his face. "I'm not giving you up, not again, not ever. I won't do it; I can't do it. But I don't want to give up the team either and that includes your spot on it as well. Is that selfish of me?"

Sam shook his head, releasing his breath. "If it does, then I'm selfish as well. So for now we keep things the way they are. I don't like the secrecy any more than you do. I'm happier with you than I think I've ever been in my entire life. I want the world to know it but if getting to have you in my life means I keep it quiet, then I'm okay with it. I don't like it, but I'll sneak around and tell half truths and pretend we're nothing but friends and co-workers if that's what it takes to be able to hold you like this and to do this…" he lowered his head to capture her mouth with his. When he finally pulled away, he continued, "And later to be able to take you upstairs and show you just how happy I am that you are okay."

Jules's heart was fluttering with anticipation and she was more than a little breathless. Suddenly her fears from the day before that she wouldn't survive seemed foreign and unreal to her. For a person who prided herself on her independence and strength, she admitted, at least to herself, that she didn't just want this relationship, she needed it with every breath in her. "I figured you would say we had to wait for that last part until the doctor cleared me."

Sam tightened his hold on her. "I know the doctor said no strenuous activities and I'm going to make sure you follow his orders. But tonight I need to make love to you as much if not more than I think you need it. I'm not going to deny that for us, but while I'm not going to make love to you tonight like you are some fragile flower, I'm not going to hurt you or let you hurt yourself either. Besides, you told Ed you were going to turn in early; we wouldn't want that to be a lie, would we?"

Both realized they weren't hungry for food anymore. Sam let Jules return to her own seat while he put the uneaten food away for later and put the dishes in the sink. Then, hand in hand, they made their way upstairs to the bedroom. Closing the door as if to close out the rest of the world, Sam led Jules to the bed. Slowly and gently, he undressed her before lowering her to the mattress and shedding his own clothes. Then he covered her with his body, careful to keep his weight off of her.

Their lovemaking was slow and gentle but more than satisfying to them both. Sam was careful to avoid putting pressure on her sore ribs but pressed her closely to him as if he couldn't get her close enough. Afterward, he carefully searched for and kissed every single bruise he could find on her beautiful body even down to the small, almost indiscernible marks left by the stun gun. Jules had never felt so pampered and so loved as she did right then in Sam's arms. Satisfied that he'd kissed every wound she might physically have, he settled on the bed beside her and held her tightly but gently to him. His leg rested over hers trapping her to him.

"Sam?" Jules stated sleepily a little while later as her exhaustion caught up with her once again.

"Yeah?" Sam breathed against her hair as he continued to hold her against him. He was surprised to hear her say his name; he'd thought she'd already given way to sleep from how still and comfortable she felt against him.

"I'm sorry I scared you."

He wasn't sure if she was apologizing for the day before or her questioning of their relationship earlier. He kissed her again, knowing she was already half asleep. "It's okay. As long as I get to hold you like this and know that you want me in your life as much as I want you, nothing else matters. We can get through anything."

She sighed contentedly and nodded, the movement nuzzling her even closer to his chest. "Copy that."

Then she was asleep. Sam was just about to follow her when he realized the slight shiver in her body that he'd noticed the night before when he'd gotten in the bed with her and had also felt as he'd held her earlier when he'd arrived home was now gone. Safe in his arms, it was as if her body finally knew she was warm and safe. He kissed her again, also content as he fell asleep.

- FP -

Author's Notes 2: Again I hope you've enjoyed the story as much as I enjoyed writing it. I had to include the conversation about doubts about them sneaking around. I'm sure there had to have been many such discussions while they were keeping their relationship secret. Don't hate me for it.


End file.
